Interlude
by Wedjatqi
Summary: ALLIANCE FIC - Following the dramatic events of 'Dark Shadows Rising', we see the consequences on various characters and discover where the future may take them. John/Teyla. Sequel to 'Dark Shadows Rising' and still a prequel to 'Late Night Visitors', set in my Alliance AU world. COMPLETE.
1. Teyla

**Title:** Interlude  
**Chapter: **1 – Teyla  
**Part**: 1/?  
**Rating**: M  
**Warnings:** AU world, some violence, and sexual content  
**Disclaimers**: I earn no money from this and I own no part of the canon Stargate world, only the characters that I create for myself.  
**Spoilers**: Set in my established AU Alliance world, set in equivalent time to early season 3.

**Note:** It's been some time since I last posted a fic – it's been a busy few months, with moving house, visiting old friends, a friend's wedding, and, more recently, I broke my ankle. I am also currently taking part in the Beya John/Teyla Christmas challenge. It starts in December, so head over to the Beya Livejournal page to check out all the goodies everyone will be posting. I'm really looking forward to it.

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**INTERLUDE 1 - TEYLA  
**

The heavy oppression of the small space pressed heavily on her consciousness. There was barely room to move her legs without bumping into other knees and holsters, or space above her head to stretch up her neck without catching nauseous glimpses of what was outside the single porthole.

She wished she could sleep, that she could pass this travelling time in blissful rest which would enable her to recharge and prepare. However, her mind was still too acutely sharp, while her body faintly ached from the battle they had left all of an hour before. Adrenaline was still lingering in her blood, stealing some of her ability to trick her mind into sleep. There was no fooling herself that another battle was fast approaching, and the tumbling stretched time until it started clung thickly in the air.

Mediation had worked to calm her for a while, but the bump of knees against her adrenaline heightened body meant that she could not fully immerse herself in that respite just yet.

To her left, three people down the row from her, but only two foot away in reality, a fellow Elite slept, his deep restful snoring mixing with the heavy rasp of knives being sharpened.

Too much distraction. Too great a need for patience. Normally patience did not escape her, or her fellow warriors, but this approach...

Teyla looked up at the porthole inches above her head. Space tumbled by outside, the stars rolling and sliding through the view, instantly confusing and destabilising her internal balance. Her stomach reacted, and hers was one of the strongest, but the conflicting information between what she saw and what she felt was too much for the primitive human brain.

A large boulder of rock rolled into her view through the porthole, partially blocking the stars momentarily, and she latched her gaze upon it, and the nausea eased.

The asteroid danced slowly through her view, almost elegantly, though the truth was that if it, or one of its companions, struck the infiltration vessel, they would all be lost.

It had been Jobrill's clever scheme to infiltrate the new Wraith territory in this tiny, sealed, internally stabilised vessel. With one burst of its tiny engines, they had been sent rolling out among the asteroids that stretched the border the Wraith patrolled around their latest space station. It was a treacherous approach for they could not risk altering their tumbling route without drawing Wraith attention and guns. They had just enough power for the engines to move a small distance once they were level with the station. The calculations to ensure they would miss all the asteroids and still pass close by the station had had to be exceptionally precise and only fate would prove if they had been so.

Until then, twenty Elite were stuck inside this tiny metal can, tumbling through space amid dangerous rolling rocks, and watchful Wraith.

It was perhaps that surrender of control that grated on her nerves the most. There was nothing that she could do now until they reached their destination. If they were detected, they would die in space, destroyed instantly by weapons fire, or blow out into the vacuum of space if the vessel was torn apart. All was out of her control, and she could only wait and pray to the Ancestors, in whom which she had little faith, that her fellow Elite would all survive to do battle on the station.

Twenty Elite against an innumerable quantity of Wraith on the station – she would take those odds any day over this seemingly endless flight.

The asteroid continued its slow progress across the porthole, its uneven brown surface her only focus, until it finally disappeared, leaving only the swimming stars once more.

She closed her eyes, shutting out the vision, leaving her other senses in sharper focus. There was the musty scent of battle worn males around her, of sharp chemical cleaning fluid combining with the metallic spark of sharpening metal and the greased hinges of the vessel's only hatch. Gentle snores to the left along with Si' slow meditative breathing close against her right side. There was a rush of air as Oneakka blew across his latest impeccably sharpened knife, and the soft bleep of the single pilot's console updating her on their continuing journey through the asteroid field.

Her body's aches seemed stronger now with her attention turned from the porthole. Aches gained from the battle they had just abandoned to the Alliance military force to finish, leaving the Elite free to progress further. This would be the last push to fully claim this entire system from the Wraith. This space station was their last holdout and it needed to be eliminated.

Her right hip throbbed deeply from where a Wraith had struck her, while her left knuckles burned from her returning strike, which had caught part of the Wraith drone's bone mask. There was also a superficial, yet sharp, pain in her left knee, of which she had not been wholly aware until this moment, as if her body was now taking the opportunity of her attention to report all the ills she had suffered today.

And the old.

Amid all the bruises and sprains, her upper back still always ached. She knew the wound was long healed and that there was nothing there to cause her such discomfort anymore, but some days it felt as if Iketani' blade still cut acutely into her.

She had been a warrior long enough to understand the faces of trauma – the physical and the psychological, as well as the psychic in the case of her fellow Seekers. She knew that the ache in her upper back, around the tiny scar that was all that was left of the true injury, was not real. It was a psychological criticism at what had almost been the greatest mistake she had ever made. She had turned her back on her enemy, and it had been nearly fatal. If it had not been for John...

John.

The thought of him was like a balm on her aches and worries.

She sought not to think of him too frequently, for it was a distraction to do so, and one that had passed its time.

Yet, today, now in this tiny disturbing claustrophobic lull between storms, she let herself drift into the temptation of thinking of him.

John Sheppard.

Memories, warm and calming, seeped through her body and mind.

The remembered caress of his lips upon hers.

His hands sliding across her exposed skin.

The deep well of yearning that he had responded to with his own.

The tight warm press of chest to chest.

The arousing scent of his skin as his hands tangled in her hair.

It all washed away even the deepest of battle chills, forcing the frustration, and the never confessed worrying fears, out of her consciousness.

And yet, though she submerged herself into the teasing, freeing, memories of him, they brought with them the darker side of such indulgence. The sharp edge of emotion that whispered to her too frequently that she should be contented with what she had shared with John that single time. That she should not think of him and what he might be doing in Atlantis and what dangers he might be facing.

She should not brood on the thought that she might never see him again.

And even if she did see him again, it would be unwise to follow through on what her inner self wished – to drag him back against her.

To feel that racing, roaring, feminine rush through her that demanded his body, his touch and his breath upon her. That yearned to experience that powerful joining once more.

Just once more.

She opened her eyes abruptly, snapping her mind's focus back to where she was, and the reality of her life and his. She was an Elite. Elite do not dwell upon the past and wish for a future beyond the next battle and the ultimate defeat of the Wraith. It was foolish to do so.

Across from her, Halling opened his eyes and smiled faintly at her through the starlight shinning in from the porthole. She knew he could see her discomfort on this trip, but he said nothing, only turned to Oneakka filling the seat tight up against his.

"That knife has been razor sharp for the past half hour, put it away."

Oneakka paused in his obsessive duty for a second and then continued, this time with a far heavier hand on the sharpening stone.

Halling sighed and closed his eyes again, his head bumping back against the wall and ceiling tight around his tall frame.

Teyla smiled as she watched Oneakka lift the knife and inspect it in the starlight, the low glow glimmering off its shiny surface highlighting the stark scarred texture of the right side of his face. The sharpening stone lifted again.

Teyla watched the stroke of stone across the blade only inches away from her. Her own knives were sharp and ready, her guns cleaned and prepared, as she knew Oneakka's and all the others' were too. They were ready, but all held in limbo, tumbling through space to either victory or death.

She looked up back to the porthole, at the twisting lights and tumbling rocks, and considered that perhaps, on this occasion, dwelling on memories was preferable and understandable.

With a soft deep breath, she closed her eyes, the starlight cool on her face, and she slid back into the warm arousing memories.

Just for today.

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TBC


	2. Madesh

**INTERLUDE 2 - MADESH**

Panic rushed up through his windpipe, ground dust clogging up the inside, stealing his nerve along with his breath. There was no time to find water, to wipe his lips clear of the clinging dust, or even the chance to spit – he didn't have saliva left to make it anyway.

This should not be happening. It shouldn't matter like this.

The sharp corner of a building bit into his back as he slid to a stop, his entire chest heaving with exertion. He had to stop, just for a moment.

Bending forward, he set his hands on his knees and worked air into his lungs - past the fear, the burning contractions of exhaustion, and the sharp sticking dry dust. He coughed, trying to clear the clogging restriction, and managed to produce enough spit to clear his mouth.

The blot of moisture splattered to the ground before him, and he watched it sizzle a little in the overwhelming heat.

He couldn't stay here any longer. Where was he going to go though?

Dantu hadn't said anything about this. Just make the exchange and head back to the bunker. It was simple, it was standard. No one blinked at them. Some of the market girls even thought it sexy and would offer him all sorts of goods.

Not today though.

Having regained some of his breath again, he forced himself to stand upright, assessing where he was and where he could go. He couldn't go straight back to the portal, that would be stupid. He would have to hide out here and go through tomorrow. Dantu would be furious, but he would understand as long as the package was safe.

He dropped his hands to the thickly wrapped package tied securely to his belt under the thin rag of his shirt. Maybe he should hide it somewhere for then even if he was caught they would have nothing to use against him.

Only...what was hunting him hadn't looked like it would care about excuses.

The memory of promised violence made him shudder and the panic begin to rise again.

He needed to think. What would Dantu want him to do? Keep low, hide, and get back to the bunker with the package. But, he couldn't make it through the Portal. When he didn't turn up, Dantu would send another to find him, yes that would work. Then the package could be exchanged and he could leave safely in a day or so.

Maybe one of those market girls would hide him somewhere...

The ideas slid together quickly, efficiently so, and he smiled into the hot air. He just had to hide, somewhere out of the sun, and be patient. There were plenty of small hiding places here, as all the tightly packed buildings stood open, with small rooms closed only with cloth curtains. He would be fine; he just needed to hide until the hot sun dimmed. Yes, the package would be safe, Dantu would send help, and all would be well.

A shadow shifted across the hot bright sunlight filling the narrow lane and suddenly the plans fell away.

The shadow slid further out from above, shifting until its outline was plain.

Panic reared up loud and fearful again and he launched himself away from his corner, tearing down the lane, kicking dust in his wake.

Looking up and back, stupidly he knew, but he had to see, to be sure.

The dark shape stood up tall, towering on top of the sun baked brick building that had been his shelter.

How had it found him there? Was it that powerful?

He tripped over part of a wagon handle protruding out from a junction, and he tumbled down towards the suffocating dust. He got his hands down in front of him just quickly enough to catch himself from crushing the package, and his nose, against the dry earth.

A crash of leather boots against the ground echoed through the rising dust though and he turned to see the Shadow-Man had leapt down into the lane behind him. Sunlight glinted off weapons, and glared against black straps and Wraith bones that surely decorated the spectre.

He looked away, beyond panic now, as he scrabbled away as fast as he could, digging his toes into the ground to get to his feet. He needed to run, and run he did.

He powered his legs and arms, whimpering loudly as he took a sharp left and then a right, not looking back at all, only running for his life. It would kill him, surely, tear out his heart and eat it before him as he died. He had heard the stories and he had seen the Shadow-Man up close at the exchange point. He had seen the pure violence in the creature's eyes.

Another sharp turn at a three way junction of tight lanes allowed him the chance to glance back, but there was no sign of his pursuer. He slowed enough to assess the open doorways he was passing, and he dived inside the first that seemed good enough. There was a second doorway just inside leading to a small yet full storage room and he crammed himself inside, pulling the curtain doorway across to hide him.

His breathing loud and fast, he gripped the swinging curtain, forcing it hang still as best he could, before he backed up, pressing himself tightly into the darkness of the tiny storage room.

He couldn't hear anything except the normal distant sounds of the market centres beyond the houses. No pounding pursuing boots tracking him down, no inhuman growls of his imminent death.

The curtain did not reach the floor of the storage room's entrance, which allowed him a limited view of the building's entrance just outside and some of the dusty ground of the lane beyond.

Nothing stirred.

He worked to slow his breathing, covering his mouth with one hand to smother any sounds that might give away his location. He should hide the package, maybe at the back of this storage room, and he glanced around the tightly packed storage room, seeking out some safe place to conceal it.

Something shifted outside.

He snapped his gaze back to the gap under the curtain. There was nothing to be seen, but something felt different.

How could it have found him? No one could have seen him enter here, not even a local farmer or playing child had been in this area of the market town at the height of the day.

He watched the barely stirring tiny threads of the fraying seam of the dividing curtain, the ground outside clear, empty and shadow free. Only something was wrong.

Fear itched at the back of his neck, and he could feel sweat dribbling down his spine under his already dampened shirt.

He had to be safe...The package had to be safe too though. Dantu drilled it into them. It was precious and must be protected.

A hand shot through the side of the curtain, grasping the front of his shirt in an abrupt strike, pulling him out of the storage room in one swift decisive tug, the curtain flattening over his struggling body.

Sunlight burst around the falling curtain and then a wall, hard and sharp, smacked into his back. He cried out into the brightness, and then whimpered in terror as the Shadow-Man's head blocked out the sunlight.

"Where is it?" It demanded loudly, its breath bitter and thick against his face.

"Wh...what?" He stammered, holding his hands up in front of him, trying to appear innocent.

"Where?!" The Shadow-Man shouted, loud enough to hurt his ears and suddenly a thick hand was around his neck and his feet left the ground.

"Th...the...," he stuttered out his hands dropping of their own volition down towards his belt.

Another large rough hand hit away his attempt to reach the package, but the pressure around his throat eased enough that his feet touched the ground once more. He drew in a shaking breath, perhaps his last, and watched as the package came away from its protective sleeve and was lifted up into the light.

The Shadow-Man grunted and threw it aside as if it meant nothing.

He watched the package hit the ground in shocked fear. Dantu would kill him.

The hand around his throat tightened again and his priorities with it. The Shadow-Man's fingers dug into his skin as it leant right in close to him. What could it want if not the package?

He pressed his head back against the sharp edge of a wall brick behind him as the Shadow-Man leant closer, surely about to devour him!

Details of the demon's face came into sharp focus, and he stared at the torn up flesh on one side of its face, black pigments sealed into skin in dark twisting Wraith lines around the destruction.

He felt feet leave the ground again and he clung tightly onto the wiry leather wrapped wrist of the Shadow-Man.

"Give me a name," it demanded, inches away from his own face, filling his view with nothing but fury and black ink.

"I...I don't..." he stuttered.

"NOW."

"Dant...u...Dantu," he whispered his betrayal.

There was a rush of boots on sand and suddenly there was movement behind the Shadow-Man as another man arrived.

"Honoured Elite," the man panted, "I almost lost you."

The Shadow-Man didn't blink at the man's arrival, instead he angled his head to block the view of the new man.

"Is Dantu from Dreamstation?" The Shadow-Man demanded. "Does he trade there?"

"Nnnn...ooo," he barely managed to reply, but the tight grip around his throat eased a fraction and he felt that he could at last pull in a full breath.

"Who supplies him with this?" The Shadow-Man demanded, his voice still loud and threatening.

Behind the madman, the other reached down and picked up the package and began to tear it open.

No, Dantu would kill him. The package had to be protected.

The fingers tightened around his throat once more and he snapped his gaze back to the Shadow-Man.

"Answer me," it demanded, "or you'll never be able to take in any more Quantum for the rest of your life."

That threat chilled him even more than the pain of the hold around his neck and the prospect of imminent death.

No more sweet freedom of the Quantum?

Screw Dantu.

"He doesn't trade on Dreamstation," he told the Shadow-Man. "I don't know where it comes from."

The Shadow-Man angled his head away. "Read him," he ordered the other man behind him. The one now holding enough Quantum to set an entire planet free.

"I don't need to," the man replied. "I recognise him; he's a small time rag who runs for gamblers and drug runners. He's only a mule."

The Shadow-Man looked away over his shoulder. "No cog is too small time for me, Madesh. Read him!"

The other man cautiously approached and leant around the demon's shoulder.

Both looked at him, but the new man's eyes held his strangely, weirdly.

"He'll tell you everything you want to know if you don't kill him, and maybe even some of what he's overheard if we give him some of this Quantum," the new man reported.

"None of this should be out here," the Shadow-Man stated angrily.

"He'll have no future with Dantu now, those at the exchange will report back what happened here," the other man stated.

He had not thought of that. He _couldn't_ go back to Dantu, even with the package if he still had it – Dantu would kill him for sure.

"If you give me some, and let me go, I'll answer anything for you," he stuttered, his voice shaking as he watched the scarred face staring at him, the Wraith killer's pale skin seeming almost translucent in the bright sunlight over them.

"Pull out one vial's worth," the Shadow-Man ordered the other man.

A small sealed slip of Quantum was pulled free of the package and the other man held it up.

It would last him two maybe three flights. He could go to one of Dantu's competitors. He had heard about them. He knew where to find them.

"Wh..what do you want to know?" He asked.

"Dreamstation. You know it?" The Shadow-Man demanded.

"Yes, but it's empty of Dantu's kind now, now...you were there."

The Shadow-Man's face altered, light and shadows shifting as a sharp terrifying smile broke across its face. It leant in closer to him again, filling his world with the scars of pain and battle, and threatening power.

"Good," the creature stated low and thick. "Where is Creass' operation now?"

"I don't know that," he replied quickly. The hand tightened at his throat. "Not even Dantu knows, but there are others," he added hurriedly. "Other traders, I've...I've heard them talking with Dantu, about new players and things changing without Dreamstation."

"Have any of them been to Dreamstation recently?" The other man asked.

"One, I think, they say it's a pleasure palace again, full of whores and gambling tables only, as it used to be," he replied quickly.

"Where is the Quantum being made?" The Shadow-Man asked.

"I don't know," he replied honestly.

The grip tightened and his neck began to stretch upwards again.

"I do...not...know..." he repeated, his voice dying.

"Then what have you heard?" The Shadow-Man asked.

"There's new manufacturers," he gasped out, his toes barely on the ground and his breath shortening. "Quantum 4 now."

The grip's progress towards crushing his windpipe halted, not lessening, but didn't tighten any further.

"Tell me."

"It's...supposed to...be...more powerful," he whispered out with what breath he had.

"Who is making it?"

"I don't...know...new traders...from beyond the borders."

"Where it is being trading in if not through Dreamstation now?"

"I do...not...know."

The Shadow-Man hissed like a Wraith, unsatisfied with his answer, but abruptly the hold on his throat dropped away completely and he tumbled downwards, his legs collapsing under him and he hit the ground at the Shadow-Man's boots.

He looked up at the creature, past the black armour and weapons, and watched as the Shadow-Man held up the one vial's worth of Quantum 3.

He fixed his eyes on it, on the promise of it. It would cure all this fear, all this chaos, if he could just have it. Dantu wouldn't take him back, so he would need what he could get until he had a new employer.

"Tell me where I can find Dantu," the Shadow-Man demanded.

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TBC


	3. Rodney

**INTERLUDE 3 - Rodney**

It was madness, hell alive around him.

Another explosion hit, a fiery ball rushing out, superheating the air and knocking all those close by off their feet. He stumbled, even some distance away, the ground shaking out from under his feet. The soil felt hot under his hand as he caught himself, one knee hitting the ground with an impact that surely was going to be lasting damage. Not that it would matter if he was going to die here.

Above the shouting, the screaming, and the baby wailing somewhere behind him, a new terrifying sound suddenly registered.

Rodney looked back over his shoulder, panic finding a whole new level to terrorise him with.

"Darts!" He screamed out in warning to those pouring around him.

He jabbed at his ear piece as he pushed himself back up onto his feet, his knee surprisingly steady. "Darts incoming!" He shouted into his radio link as someone fell against him.

He reached out to stop them crushing him, only to look into the panicked round blue eyes of a beautiful woman, blood dripping down one side of her race and soot blackening her Samantha Carter's style hair.

"Get those people out of there, McKay," Sumner's unhelpful order shouted into his ear. "Ford, where are you?"

Rodney didn't quite catch the reply, but he heard the rattling of the P90 fire from up ahead.

The Carter lookalike gripped hold of his arm. "Where can we go? They will kill us all!" She asked, almost as terrified as he was.

Rodney could barely hear his own stuttered weak assurances over the weapons fire and another explosion, as the buzzing rush of the Dart grew closer.

"Everyone scatter!" Sheppard shouted from somewhere up ahead and, in typical fashion, everyone obeyed him instantly. Or maybe it was the sudden pointed shadow filling the road behind them.

Rodney ran, as fast as he could, trying to zigzag a bit, but there were too many panicked locals blocking his way.

More gunfire, much closer now, was loud and offensive against his ears, but it was welcome too. He rushed closer to it, shouting orders to the locals without thinking, telling them, as they all had, to get to the Gate. The culling had started half an hour ago, and so the Wraith incoming wormhole would have to shut down soon.

How soon though? Rodney dropped his attention to his watch, obscured somewhat by soot and worryingly a droplet of blood. He quickly turned his hands over – was he bleeding from somewhere and he didn't know it?

The buzzing grew even louder, but he had reached the overhanging roof of a shop. The windows were smashed in and people were scrambling to get inside, over each other and the fruit and veg piled up in the window.

More gunfire, and Rodney turned, his search for blood loss so far coming up empty, to see Sheppard and Ford stood, boots planted, firing up at the approaching Dart. They were mad!

"Get out of there," he shouted and people began screaming around him as the Dart momentarily blocked out the sunlight over the road.

The sweeper beam burst to life, with its high pitched screech, and Rodney plastered himself backwards with the locals, getting as far away from the edge of the beam as possible. What would happen if it covered part of his leg protruding from under the overhang? Would just his foot and ankle be transported away? He pushed further back, digging space for himself in the wall of human flesh behind him.

The beam rushed past, towards Sheppard and Ford, but at the last minute, they dodged aside, dropping and rolling away, to come up solider-style and began firing up at the Dart again as passed.

Rodney saw some sparks and a brief burst of smoke from the tail end of the Dart as it circled up and away.

"Get these people to the Gate," Sheppard shouted, suddenly up close and personal. "We've got 3 minutes till the Gate shuts down and we can dial out." The locals began surging forward, pushing Rodney forward and he almost fell onto Sheppard.

"You better be right about this, McKay," Sheppard warned, unnecessarily.

"I am, as long as they don't have a new power source, and we've never seen anything powerful enough as that from the Wraith," he explained, his voice embarrassingly breathless and high pitched. He cleared his throat, tasting weird alien tastes on his lips, which he hoped was from the fruit scattered over the ground and not due to more splattered blood.

"Get to the Gate, Rodney," Sheppard ordered again, louder now because the Dart was turning back round in the distance. "Go, now!"

Rodney didn't need telling twice. He ran, unashamedly as fast as he could, barging through the crowd of locals as he caught up with them on the far side of the open space. The Gate was ahead, cleared for now of Wraith by Major Lorne's team, two of which were working crowd control in front of the still active Gate.

"You'd better be right about this, McKay," a Lieutenant shouted at him as Rodney angled and elbowed his way through the terrified crowd.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Rodney asked bitterly as he reached the DHD. "It's not my fault if the Wraith have developed some new-"

Abruptly the Gate shut down and all eyes turned to it.

"Dial. Dial, Dial," the Lieutenant shouted along with both Sheppard and Sumner in Rodney's ear piece.

"I am, I am," Rodney shouted back as he punched the address in as fast as he could before he threw both his forearms onto the central large button, which lit up under him. He looked up in blissful hope, to watch the Gate finish its dial and it exploded out into life.

"We have a successful outgoing wormhole," the Lieutenant shouted into the radio. "Everyone through!"

Rodney was practically flattened against the DHD as the crowd pushed forward.

He should be getting used to seeing people fleeing the Wraith, especially lately. This had to be the fourth planet's inhabitants they had had to evacuate this month. The Wraith were attacking more than ever before, but in a selective area close, but not too close, to the fastest expanding area of Alliance territory.

The Atlantis Expedition had come to the Pegasus galaxy to find new advanced technology and weapons to help fight their enemies, but instead it seemed that they now spent most of their time fighting what seemed a clearly losing battle to Rodney. There was barely any time for scientific research and all eyes were forever plastered to the long range sensors, tracking as many Wraith as possible and warning planets ahead of the cullings. But, they couldn't keep it up forever. How many more planets was Rodney going to have to watch abandoned by terrified bloodied people?

"Incoming!" A shout registered in Rodney's ear piece and he turned, his back pressed against the DHD, to see three Darts circling round in the far distance into an arrow formation. Heading directly towards the Gate. There were a trees covering the way to the Gate, but they could easily be blasted away...

Rodney didn't need to be told by the shouted orders in his ears to keep out of there. He scrambled around the DHD, the sound of the Darts growing louder and louder.

A hand on his back pushed harder and he nearly tripped over his own feet as he raced for the Gate. It was barely a few of metres away from the DHD on this planet, but the buzzing was growing louder and closer.

"Run, McKay," Sheppard hollered and the hand on his back pushed harder.

The wormhole's event horizon was barely visible ahead, as there were so many people were rushing through it, jumping through in some cases. What if he couldn't get through?

The high scream of a sweeper beam broke to life right behind them.

Rodney whimpered a scream as the blue surface of the event horizon broke into view and then he was tumbling forward through the wormhole.

The floor of the Gate room rushed up to meet him, but there were at least several people already spread out on it to break his fall. He still hit them hard, an elbow and a back pack shoving into his middle. His breath crushed out of him, he barely registered others falling down on his back.

A yell of victory, obviously from Ford, was the only thing Rodney could hear as he gasped in a breath, the air stinking of sweat, blood, and what he hoped wasn't urine.

"You okay, McKay?" Sheppard asked from somewhere to the right, and Rodney rolled towards the sound, away from the disembowelling elbow, and uncaring if he might crush Sheppard.

His back met a hand and then the cool hard floor of the Gate Room as he gasped for clear clean air for the first time in what felt like hours.

"How long can we keep this up?" Rodney asked the world and life in general.

Sheppard stepped into his view, looking down at him like he was making a fuss of nothing. "As long as we have to," was his stupidly heroic reply.

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TBC


	4. Halling

**INTERLUDE 4 - Halling**

He watched as the last stitch slid through his skin, pulling the last of the ragged edges of the cut across his forearm together.

It would not scar, too small as it was, but though superficial it still stung sharply. He was still surprised how raw pain was for him, after so many years. He thought he would have grown used to it by now.

For pain was a lingering unwell friend of late. Since his serious hip injury several months ago, the near constant aching pain remained, feeling like a guest who refused to leave. He feared that his aging bones would not let it.

As the healer stepped aside, not even attempting to remind him of how to care for the wounds – they were too common for Elite – the door to the healing area slid open and Teyla stepped into view.

Behind her, Ketra's scaled head peered around the door's seal, knowing full well that she was banned from entering the healing area. The creature's intelligent eyes swept around the room as if seeking out potential foes, or perhaps for someone who might have food.

"How do you fare?" Teyla asked as she approached him, her greeting as familiar as the number of past wounds.

"Scratches only," Halling replied immediately as he stood up from the healing bed and reached for his coat.

"Of course," Teyla replied, but there was a touch of annoying insight within her words.

"And how fares your leg?" Halling responded, knowing she had taken a heavy strike during their first battle planetside. That they had travelled immediately into a second battle aboard a Wraith base surely had not helped her heal.

"Aching, as I am sure yours is as well," Teyla replied, falling into step with him as he led the way out of the healing area, lowering his hand to stroke the top of Ketra's head as he passed her. He swore she grew visibly larger by the hour.

"My hip is stable enough," he stated, feeling the nagging sliver of concern and doubt rising again, but he forced it down and away. Elite did not doubt themselves, they were strong. Even if his weak hip might one day slow his reflexes and flexibility enough to give a Wraith the moment it needed to strike him down.

"I did not say that it was not," Teyla replied at his side, the soft padded sound of the dragon's feet following along behind them.

Halling frowned down at Teyla and saw the surprisingly soft amusement in her expression. He had not seen such lightness from her in many days. Since the near assassination of her sister, father, and Charin at Zabetha's wedding carnival she had seemed distant. There were times, before and after battle, when her thoughts appeared to be especially focused elsewhere. In battle though, she was as fierce as ever.

"You fought nobly this day, Teyla," he told her.

"As did you," she replied with an emphasis that was again disturbingly pointed. "You know, as all of us do, that it takes time to recover from a deep wound."

"I know it," he agreed somewhat unwillingly, faintly irritated that she could see his weakness clearly enough. He had not faltered in the battles. He had not let it slow him.

"Good, for you seem to have forgotten," she added.

He looked down at her again. She looked only forwards as they progressed down the corridor together side by side. She was his friend, of so many years that he could not remember any of his days without her.

"I apologise," he offered. "It only seems that recovery takes longer with each passing year," he confessed quietly, even though no one else walked the corridor, except for Ketra behind them.

"It is the way of nature," Teyla quoted, using one of Charin's favoured wisdoms.

Halling let out a breath and conceded defeat. "True enough."

"You fought nobly, my friend," Teyla repeated. "One would never know." She did not have to explain further, he understood. They barely had to speak full sentences to each other anymore, it was not necessary for they knew the shape of each other's mind with a lifetime's experience.

"Have you taken late meal yet?" He asked.

"No, I was hoping to sit with you," Teyla replied with a smile.

"Making sure my old bones are well fed?" He joked and her smile widened.

They made the rest of their way up to the canteen in companionable silence, where most of the other Elite onboard were eating.

As he and Teyla selected their own food the door slid open and Oneakka strode in.

"Where have you been?" Kari demanded over her shoulder.

"He has been pursuing his obsession," Teyla replied before Halling as they made their way to the table.

Kari frowned. "We have barely been in orbit two hours and you have already been off world and back to cause trouble?"

"While you were sleeping, I was working," Oneakka replied, as he dumped his food selection into his bowl with about as much attention as he gave such mundane things.

"And stealing Madesh away from his studies for you to use to read who you choose," Halling added.

Oneakka frowned at him as his long strides ate up the distance between the food selection and the eating table. "He needs the experience, and he agreed to it." He dropped his bowl down onto the table top opposite Halling and sat down heavily.

Kari scoffed beside him. "_Asked_ him did you? As if anyone would be brave enough to deny one of your 'requests'."

"We need your attention on the present, not some obsessive need to clean the galaxy," Seifer added into the growing disagreement.

Seifer had been assigned to the Sythus while Nalla remained back in the Training Facility to sit as Elite representative on the Military Council. It was a position that mostly she and Teyla shared, though others could in their place if necessary, but they were all agreed that Nalla and Teyla were the best suited to the role among the Elite.

"It is not an obsession," Oneakka objected almost angrily.

Halling watched him with a level gaze. Since he, Teyla, and Si had visited Dreamstation in pursuit of the Iketani, Oneakka had become fixated on bringing those in charge of Dreamstation to justice.

Oneakka met Halling's stare and held it. Few could outstare Oneakka, but Halling did not need to, for he simply shook his head doubtfully.

"I'm allowed a hobby," Oneakka protested, the anger slipping into defensiveness, an emotional response that was rare with him. "Si does his mediation, you make coats, Teyla collects slaves from Earth."

"It was just one man from Earth," Teyla argued, surprising Halling in that she would rise to such a clear baiting comment.

Oneakka smiled as he continued. "And Seifer talks to the trees in the hydroponics level."

"I do not talk to the trees, I go there to think, and speaking a problem out loud assists in reaching an answer," Seifer explained.

"And Sheppard was _never_ my slave," Teyla added.

Oneakka smiled again, pleased in his disruption and provocation of his friends and allies. "And I like to track down criminals."

"Dreamstation is not our problem," Halling replied, and not for the first time. "Let the Investigation Division deal with them now."

The playfulness that had lingered across Oneakka's expression died away in a flash, and his usual angry resolve retook its natural position. "It was a sign of weakness of the Alliance and the Elite to let Dreamstation have its way for so long, and that's why Iketani was able to use it for her own means."

"The decision was agreed long ago to let the spacestation collect its small time criminals," Seifer responded.

"NOT small time," Oneakka interrupted, jabbing into the air with his fork. "Iketani saw the weakness and she exploited it. She probably visited that station for years behind our backs, and we know she had help in her attack on Athos. Someone helped her find those assassins, helped set up the attack on elder Charin, sneaking up on her to shoot her through the back."

Halling glanced at Teyla beside him, watching her expression, but there was barely a glimpse of the torment reliving the event must have upon her. He knew the depth of the love she had for her birth family, and for Charin. Their near death had shaken her into a fury Halling had not seen in her before or since.

"They slipped into Torren's home and almost killed him and his youngest daughter," Oneakka continued, his furious anger loud in the silent room. "They killed a damn High Councillor of the Alliance." His fist slammed down onto the table, dancing bowls, cups and cutlery across its surface. "And I _won't_ let that go. None of us should. Creass will know who the traitor dealt with, who she conspired and seduced over the years, and I _will _find them. And Creass will pay for his part in all this, for running Dreamstation and sheltering all the scum he let use it."

Silence lingered after the speech, perhaps one of the longest and most logically constructed arguments Oneakka had ever expressed. Halling had to concede his friend had a valid point.

"You are right of course," Halling said calmly. "I have no doubt that the rest of the Elite will support your endeavour."

"I agree," Teyla said with an overly calm expression. "Though Creass had many years to prepare for the day he would need to leave Dreamstation. He is likely based far away from the current border, perhaps too far removed for even our reach."

A little surprised by her admission, Halling slid his attention back to Oneakka, watching his reaction.

"There is always a trail, and _I_ _will_ find it," Oneakka stated simply, his temper once again contained and in its place sat defiant confidence in his capability to seek out the criminal Creass.

Halling had little doubt that Oneakka would continue to throw himself into the endeavour with his usual determined single-mindedness, but he was hardly known for his subtly, and these criminals he sought were like water sliding through shadows. Oneakka's patented brutal aggression, overwhelming physical strength, and unstoppable intimidation might not be the skills required to find Creass. However, it was his choice and no one could even try to stand in his way.

"I am certain that my father will assist you in your hunt in any way he can," Teyla offered, though it was unlikely that Leader Torren would be able to help in this situation.

Oneakka nodded in acknowledgement as he began to eat, and they fell into silence as they all did the same, and perhaps all finally feeling the weight of tiredness from the day's battles.

The meal over, Oneakka stormed out to continue his investigation, or perhaps to actually sleep. Halling left the canteen with Teyla once more, the two of them walking in easy silence, whilst his hip continued to ache deeply.

"Do you believe we made an error in leaving Dreamstation untouched for so long?" Teyla asked as they reached the door to her quarters. She paused outside the doorway as it opened, Ketra sliding between their boots and disappearing inside.

"If Dreamstation had not been there, Iketani would still have found somewhere else to meet those like her," Halling replied. "We knew most of the goings on in Dreamstation, and our contacts there provided vital intelligence in the past."

"True, but we heard nothing of Iketani' presence there all that time. What else was slipping under our sight?"

Halling had to agree with her and Oneakka's point. "Much I suspect, but then, we are not enforcement officers, we hunt Wraith. We cannot oversee the entire galaxy," he added with a wistful smile.

Teyla smiled back. "Oneakka will never agree to such restrictions."

Halling nodded.

"Though he is perhaps correct, and it seems somewhat strange that Oneakka is the one out of us who is pushing an ethical point, but if we have power, should we wield it?"

It was a question the Elite had faced before, but always in the constant war against the Wraith there was no space for anything other than the complete destruction of the Wraith. Now the Alliance so was much more successful and pushing her borders out further, would the Elite eventually one day play a role in law and order rather than battle?

"We strive to defeat the Wraith," he pondered, "but I wonder whether if the day should arrive when they are all gone, will the Elite cease to exist as well?" Such thoughts had rarely passed his mind, for to conceive of a life truly free of the shadow of the Wraith...as much as it was the only goal of the Elite, he had never truly believed he would see such a day.

"It is strange to think of the day when the Elite can finally lay down arms as anything other than a victorious event, but I find myself-"

A sharp call from the intercom inside her quarters cut off the rest she was going to say, but Halling suspected it was going to reflect his own thoughts. Surely the last day of the Wraith would be joyous, but would it also mean the end of the Elite. Could the Elite exist in a world without warfare? Was such a galaxy even truly possible?

It was hard to imagine where some Elite would find themselves if it occurred, especially Oneakka, so filled with fire and furious determination.

Teyla had moved inside her quarters and now triggered the intercom's connection. "Emmagan here."

"Honoured Elite," the tinny voice replied, "there is an open link for you, identity stated as Elkaska."

Halling saw the lightening to Teyla's expression and he smiled to see it.

"Put him through," she instructed into the intercom before moving further into her quarters. "Stay to pass on your greetings to him if you wish, Halling," she offered.

"I would be honoured," Halling replied as he followed her inside, triggering the door closed behind him.

On the wall to the left, the display screen lit up, and, after Teyla entered her private code, the screen shifted to the familiar face of her uncle, Elkaska.

"Ahh, Mistress Emmagan," Elkaska greeted her, the large teasing smile a near constant on the Athosian trader's face.

Teyla smiled in response. "Greetings, Uncle."

"We have heard of the latest great victory won by the Elite and Military," Elkaska said, "Your father asked me to send his good wishes."

"And please return them to him," Teyla replied. "I have not yet had time to contact him, but will shortly. Do you know how Rhakshar fares?"

Halling glanced at her out the corner of his eye. For so long Teyla had been suspicious of her now brother through marriage, but it seemed that since his near sacrifice to save Teyla's sister, Zabetha, it had changed Teyla's opinion of him. It pleased Halling, for he could see and value for her the bond of the Athosian family. It was rare for Elite to keep such strong ties, but in Teyla's case, Halling saw nothing but value for her in its strength.

"I do," Elkaska replied, "I left Tjaru only yesterday. He is doing very well, you would not know of his injury now. Zabetha still worries over him, but in truth I believe he rather enjoys it. They had just left Athos for his home, their first visit there now married. Rhakshar's mother seemed overly keen to have them approve of the new rooms she had prepared for them when they stay."

"And I suspect you helped supply some of those new furnishings?" Teyla asked as she set her hip against the corner of the large sofa behind her.

"Perhaps," Elkaska agreed with a smile. His eyes slid to the right towards Halling. "Is that Honoured Elite Halling there with you?"

Halling stepped further forward so that Elkaska could better see him. "Yes it is. Greetings to you, Elkaska."

"Are you not tired of battles and ready to return to your father's career of trade, Halling?" Elkaska teased, as he did quite often, having traded with Halling's own father in his youth.

"That day has not yet arrived," Halling replied, both of them knowing that such a day would never arrive. Not for an Elite. Though, if the last day of the Wraith were to magically arrive in his lifetime...

"I suppose that is best for the Alliance," Elkaska conceded.

Halling smiled at the compliment, somehow more meaningful from Elkaska, a contemporary to Halling's lost father. It occurred to him that Teyla's family was not just a bond and source of pleasure and strength for her, but also for him, for his own family history was closely tied to hers.

"I hear that you will be returning into the core worlds within days," Elkaska continued to Teyla.

"You hear that from whom?" Teyla asked.

"I have my ears," Elkaska replied with a trader's grin. "I am on my way to Pelydr, for a trading opportunity, and to visit Sitayi. Is there a chance you may be passing there and could visit as well?"

"I believe I can easily enough," Teyla replied. "I have not seen Sitayi since Zabetha's wedding and we did not have much of a chance to speak then, so it would be good to see her."

"She thought as much," Elkaska replied with a knowing smile. "I will be there tonight and leave tomorrow eve, if you can reach Pelydr by their mid meal tomorrow we can share half a day together."

"I will meet you there," Teyla agreed.

"And I might have a few items of interest that the Elite might find worthy of trade."

Halling grinned.

"You can join us too if you wish, Halling," Elkaska offered.

"I thank you, but in this brief pause between missions, I have my own plans arranged," Halling replied. The main plan was to rest enough that his hip would cease complaining. "I will take my leave now, Elkaska, Teyla," he added, sensing that his part in this family conversation was drawing to a close.

"Good victory in your next battle, Honoured Elite Halling," Elkaska offered.

Halling bowed his head towards the screen and then to Teyla.

"Good evening, Teyla."

"Sleep well, Halling," she offered and he saw the echo of her former concern for his previous injury show around her eyes again.

He turned away before he lingered in such thoughts again himself.

As he neared the door, Ketra scurried her large body towards him, always eager to greet and to see others out of her mistress' quarters. Halling smiled down at the creature as he stroked the top of her warm smooth head.

"Good evening to you too, mighty Ketra," he offered before he opened the door.

As he stepped through, he could not help but overhear Elkaska's next question to Teyla.

"Have you spoken with Major Sheppard recently?"

"No, Uncle," Teyla replied almost sternly.

"I only ask as I still hope to trade with Atlantis..."

The rest of the conversation was cut away as Halling triggered Teyla's door closed.

He knew Teyla well enough to have seen her care for Sheppard of Atlantis long before now, but it seemed that Elkaska was not so subtle in his questioning over the man from Earth.

A thought occurred to Halling as he stood looking at Teyla's closed door.

No, he would not imagine she would have taken Sheppard as a lover. It would be a foolish and risky thing for them both, and besides, it was unlikely they would interact again. Atlantis was in a more dangerous position than ever before with the Alliance, for Iketani' assassins had been dressed in stolen Atlantis uniforms. The High Council was strongly split between acceptance that those uniforms had in fact been stolen and the all out anger of those who believed it to have been an Atlantis sponsored plot.

If Teyla did harbour strong feelings towards Sheppard, she would control them, and if the two were to meet again, it would likely be in the thick of war again anyway.

Logical enough, but Halling could not help feel somewhat concerned as he moved away from her doorway. Concern, he realised, not for her as a warrior, but as a female friend. It was the first time he had felt this way towards his fierce and powerful Elite sister. For, perhaps that was what she truly was now – a sister.

A sister who he had seen hurt many times physically, but realised he had never seen her heart hurt before.

It was something he wished never to witness.

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TBC


	5. Sumner

**Note:** I think most of you have caught on to the theme of this fic now – a short enough interlude before the next big Alliance fic, rediscovering the characters introduced before and who might just play important roles in the next fic. And of course, perhaps John and Teyla might just get to see each other again soon...maybe. Here's two new chapters for today, bringing us up to about midway through this fic.

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**INTERLUDE 5 - Sumner**

The Dart angled sharply, twisting around above him, and bolt of fire blazed out. Sumner ducked and rolled, coming up to pound more bullets up towards the stubborn alien ship. He tracked the bird, emptying the magazine entirely, but it was worth it. He saw the sparks and the wobble in the wings before a burst of fire lit up the sky and the Dart headed sharply downwards. Away from him, but unfortunately heading down towards the distant edge of the town.

"Sir," Lieutenant Ford panted out worriedly as he jogged up, one arm outstretched, pointing off into the distance. Sumner turned as he stood up, tracking to where the young lieutenant indicated.

High in the sky, the belly of a Wraith cruiser was descending through the clouds. Tiny dark dots were buzzing around - more Darts on their way here.

They were hopelessly outnumbered and the Darts had blasted the area around the Gate into burning rubble. Sheppard had gotten the crowd and McKay through just in time though. The Major was good at watching out for the scientist. That and mouthing off. However, right now, Sumner would have preferred the rest of his team back, because he was left with just Ford to help the remaining panicked local inhabitants. Where the hell was the Daedalus?

"Get under cover, into basements if you've got them," he shouted towards the windows and doorways filled with nervous terrified people. "Now!"

He turned back towards the descending nightmare. It wouldn't be too long until they were in firing range. At least the Wraith preferred not to barbeque the locals by blasting away from above because then they all would have truly been up shit street.

"Sir?" Ford asked nervously as the swarm descended lower through the grey sky, heading clearly in their direction with deadly purpose.

"Colonel Sumner, report your situation," Colonel Caldwell's voice abruptly arrived in Sumner's ear.

Slapping his hand over the ear piece to block out the renewed screams, and buzz of the approaching plague of Darts, he stated loudly "requesting evac immediately." About damn time that ship showed up.

"Understood," Caldwell replied with that same even tone he always had. Did the man ever get wound up about anything?

"And as many locals as you can get a lock on," Sumner added quickly, and just in time too as the strange fuzzy sensation of the transporter took hold of him.

In a disorientating instant, he was stood in the bridge of the Daedalus, Colonel Caldwell rising from his command chair.

"Colonel," Caldwell greeted. "Looks like we got here just in time."

"Indeed, Colonel," Sumner replied, keeping his own tone even. "We've done most of the hard work. Lorne and Sheppard got the majority of the local population through the Gate before it was hit."

"We'll get the rest for you," Caldwell replied.

"We've transported a total of thirty six civilians so far, Sir," a Lieutenant reported from the far side of the bridge.

"Get as many as you can," Caldwell replied calmly.

"Sir, the Hive has arrived," another voice reported urgently.

"Shields?" Sumner demanded before Caldwell as he moved forward, eyes on the front heavily tempered glass through which he could see the blaze of the hyperspace window flare to life and die away just as quickly. Sliding out of it came the heavy bulk of a Hive ship. "I swear those damn things are getting bigger."

"More cruisers are arriving, Sir."

"Open fire," Caldwell began to order, but a barrage of energy bolts filled the forward view and the ship rocked faintly under their boots.

"We have two cruisers jumped in behind us," the Lieutenant to the far right reported with nervous professionalism.

"How many more have we transported off the surface?" Caldwell asked as the continued exchange of fire outside lit up the inside of the bridge.

"Another sixteen. We're reading increased weapons fire on the surface from the Darts and the cruiser."

"That's not normal," Sumner reflected.

"Maybe they think you're still down there, Colonel," Caldwell suggested as he sat back down in his command chair. "I think it's time we left this party."

"Sir, what about the people left on the surface?" Lieutenant Ford all but demanded from behind Sumner.

"Dying up here won't save anyone, Lieutenant," Caldwell replied calmly and in no way appearing to object to the kid's protest. Sumner frowned over his shoulder though – he would have to speak with the kid again. He was clearly spending too much time with Sheppard.

"We have more hyperspace windows," another call reported. "Not Wraith, Sir."

"Alliance? Travellers?" Caldwell asked.

"Not any Traveller design we've seen, no Sir. They are broadcasting a known Alliance signal," she added. "They are opening fire on the Hive ship. The cruisers are turning their fire to them."

"How many Alliance ships?" Caldwell asked.

"Does it matter?" Sumner asked. "They've given us our escape route."

"How many?" Caldwell asked stubbornly.

"Three, Sir."

"Against seven cruisers and the Hive - I don't like those odds," Caldwell considered. "Keep firing on the cruisers - see if we can't even up the odds before we leave."

Sumner stepped forward, forcing himself to relax his hands on the butt of his P90. "What are you doing?"

"Giving the transporter team time to beam up the rest that they can get a lock on from the surface," Caldwell replied, his attention focused down on a display screen to his left.

A blast of fire outside lit up the bridge again and Sumner felt the deck tilt ever so faintly as the pilot turned the Daedalus through a ridiculously sharp turn, trapping two cruisers between them and two Alliance vessels. One cruiser immediately began to break apart and the other began firing wildly.

"The Hive is targeting us again," a sharp report announced moments before the deck shuddered. "Port lateral ships at 45 percent."

"Keep our back to them," Caldwell ordered.

A cruiser lit up in a fiery explosion outside and Lieutenant Ford gestured victoriously from Sumner's right. He would definitely need to talk to the kid about keeping his composure in front of the Daedalus crew.

"Aft shields down to 63 percent."

"We have more hyperspace windows opening."

"Port lateral shields are failing, breach is imminent."

Through all the quick fire reports, Caldwell kept his cool, the only sign of the stress of the situation showing in one fist tightly clenched against his command chair's armrest. Sumner grimly had to admit the guy could handle himself and his crew well. He still wasn't going to get Sumner's command – Caldwell hadn't hidden the fact he wanted the Atlantis command job, but he wasn't going to get it. His skill at commanding the Daedalus this last year would hopefully keep him away from trying again.

"Do we have more Wraith or Alliance incoming?" Caldwell demanded.

"They appear to be Alliance. They are firing on the Hive. We have a hit on the Hive. They are venting atmosphere." A burst of blue fire and then a rippling explosion filled the front view and Sumner had to glance away to save his retinas.

"We have a kill on the Hive. Two more cruisers are damaged. The rest are opening hyperspace windows."

"We have Darts abandoned and heading back down towards the planet surface," another voice reported.

"Two Alliance ships are launching fighters and pursuing."

"Keep firing on the remaining damaged cruisers," Caldwell ordered, his fist now relaxing against the arm rest.

"Making a point?" Sumner asked.

"Just making sure they see we had a part in the victory," Caldwell replied.

"Another cruiser is breaking apart behind us. More Alliance fighters have been launched."

"Any headed towards us?" Sumner asked out of interest.

"None, Sir," someone replied.

"Focus fire on the last cruiser ahead," Caldwell ordered and moments later, pounded on by both the Daedalus and two Alliance ships, the cruiser exploded, scattering pieces of debris in a fiery death. The Alliance ship on the far side of the explosion kept firing on the debris pieces though.

"Cease fire," Caldwell ordered, no doubt not wanting to accidently hit an Alliance ship.

"We are being hailed by the largest Alliance vessel, Sir."

"Let's hear it."

The speakers burst to life, the sound slightly off, presumably because the Alliance used different frequencies.

"Atlantis vessel, this is the Satedan Primary warship, the Balista," a deep male voice announced. "You may withdraw."

Sumner exchanged a look with Caldwell at the rather arrogant order behind the suggestion.

"Balista, this is the Earth ship, Daedalus. Thank you for your assistance, however, there are still people on the planet surface," Caldwell began.

"We will take care of the Wraith," the voice interrupted.

"I'm sure we can be of assistance, we have a large number of the inhabitants on our ship-"

"This planet and its people are now under the protection of the Alliance fleet. You will return any of its inhabitants immediately," the voice stated flatly.

Sumner frowned. That was not good. There were a lot of guns out there, with no one to focus them on but the Daedalus now the Wraith were dealt with. Segments of Sheppard's report on his single encounter with the Alliance Military fleet had left a permanent concern deep in Sumner's belly.

"They are not our prisoners and are free to leave whenever they wish," Caldwell replied, standing up from his chair, as if the stronger stance would transmit through the audio connection. "Many of them require medical assistance and we-"

"Which they will receive under our care," the voice replied, only to break away slightly as if they had been interrupted. "If, however," the voice continued after a short pause, the words slightly clipped but more conciliatory, "you are willing to see to their needs, that is acceptable."

Caldwell glanced round and Sumner frowned deeper with him. "Sounds like someone just got new orders to me," he suggested very quietly.

"Agreed, we will see to their care in Atlantis and they can return via Stargate," Caldwell called up towards the speakers.

"We will report your assistance to the Military Council," the voice continued, "and the Elite."

There had been particular emphasis on that last point, and Sumner turned to Caldwell again, to see he had noticed it as well.

"Please pass along our respects to the Honoured Elite warriors and Military Council," Caldwell requested.

"Very well," the voice replied, the tone seeming faintly more accepting now. "Balista out."

Caldwell gestured for the link to be closed and turned to Sumner. "That was interesting."

"What was interesting was how ready for a fight they were," Sumner pointed out. "My guess is somebody on that ship intervened, because he sure sounded like he wanted to turn the fight on us."

"Maybe there's an Elite on one of those ships," Lieutenant Ford suggested.

"Possibly, but I think it's time to take our leave before anyone changes their mind about our intentions," Caldwell suggested as he returned to his chair. "Set a course back to Atlantis. I want damage and medical reports."

Sumner tuned out the rest. He turned away as the bright light of the hyperspace window flared to life outside. Only he paused for a second, because to the right he caught sight of the largest Alliance ship for the first time. Though calling it a Warship would be a far more accurate description.

It was massive, entirely plated in dark metal panels, and clearly armed to the teeth. It was a slick predator, towering over the smaller ships patrolling through the wreckage of the Wraith ships, blasting the largest debris pieces. Sumner kept his eyes on the looming predatory Balista as the Daedalus leapt forward and into hyperspace.

He glanced back to Caldwell and saw the Colonel's shared concerned expression.

"Have we got any readings on that lead Alliance ship?" Caldwell asked his people.

"We have some, Sir."

Sumner turned away to leave the bridge. Leave it to the Flyboys to deal with that for now, but that niggling concern he had had after reading Sheppard's initial report so many months ago, now reared up into a full worrying problem. If the Balista had been up for a fight, the Daedalus would have had a hell of a bust up on its hands.

As he led young Ford out of the bridge, he mentally began preparing his urgent report on this mission, which would include his suggestions on improvements for the Daedalus' protocols, and enough emphasis on the Alliance's itchy trigger fingers to scare some sense into the Brass back home on Earth.

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TBC


	6. Creass

**INTERLUDE 6 - Creass**

It was bright at Lalwani, the twin suns' fifteen hour days constantly even in length and temperature throughout the year. Even in the depths of winter on this planet, the suns shone their fifteen hours, keeping the lush crops across the fields growing and producing more than enough to feed four times the small moon's population. Well outside Alliance territory, the only protection there was here from the Wraith was the lack of other interesting life in this solar system or its two neighbours. Of the six planets circling the primary star, none of them supported life, leaving only this moon well placed and environmentally balanced on which the Ancestors had seen fit to leave a Portal.

In galactic terms, this was a backwater area; uninteresting and not worth the fuel to get there for the Wraith. There were known to be the occasional culling, usually the Wraith arriving in small numbers through the Portal, but essentially this was a small boring moon with little of interest to anyone.

Which was why Creass had established Lalwani here many long years ago.

He just had never expected to have to move his entire life here.

For the last ten years of his life, Dreamstation had been his base of operations and his home. A custom built paradise for everyone who worked outside the usual legal parameters of the Alliance or any other ruling body. In Dreamstation, Creass had formed the perfect environment for any scum of the galaxy to meet their own kind, able the slink and slide through shadows and make their deals and threats. When they weren't paying Creass his 'reasonable' fee to do this, they had been spending their dirty money on the gambling tables or for the very best whores. It had been the perfect sweet deal.

Until the Elite had arrived on Dreamstation.

It had been Iketani' fault, baiting them there, using him as her shield, not giving a pile of Wraith shit about what might happen to his flourishing business.

He had hoped the Elite wouldn't care about him beyond their search for Iketani, and perhaps he had been right, but it hadn't mattered.

The wrong sorts had heard almost immediately that Elite boots had walked the station's corridors. Within a day, Creass had realised that the contamination was irreversible, and he had packed up his main operation out to Lalwani.

Dreamstation was still running this last month, the gambling and whoring still bringing him in cash, he just couldn't be seen to be working out of the station anymore. From Lalwani he would be able to re-establish his reputation in time, but enough of his former clientele had gone silent for him to know that he might never recover his former glory among those who needed shadows to thrive. There weren't many dark shadowy places on Lalwani, but from here he could at least take a more direct role in the running of his other 'establishments'.

He had chosen Lalwani as his new main base as Uppal had been running it so efficiently, but there was far more potential here to be tapped. If his client list had been cut down so vitally, then he had plenty of new avenues to work down, and Lalwani presented the very best opportunity.

Boot steps echoing against the hard white marble floor heralded Uppal's approach, but Creass kept his attention on the electronic pads spread out in front of him. The marble table was cold beneath his elbows, but the massive desk was an impressive sight. He imagined that Uppal used to enjoy sitting here.

"They are on their way," Uppal announced as he entered the office. His voice bouncing off the hard stone walls.

Creass nodded in acknowledgement, but kept his attention on the pads.

Silence lingered in the cool light air.

Uppal's boots snapped sharp, but quieter, steps across the floor, moving closer to Creass' desk.

"Is this wise, bringing him here?" Uppal asked.

Creass let out a breath, louder than necessary, and looked up, over the desk to where Uppal stood in his tightly tailored brown coats. Uppal had worked in Lalwani for the last seven years, and previously to that in Dreamstation. He was a clever man, and not so greedy that he skimmed more off the books of Lalwani than Creass took into account for all those who worked for him. Well, except for Seeal, she took what he paid her and nothing else. As far as he could tell, she hadn't gambled even a single coin of it, and he doubted she had spent it on any male whores from the lower levels of Dreamstation. Uppal, like Seeal, seemed more interested in his work than on the distractions his organisation provided. It was one of the reasons why Creass trusted both of them.

Until now he had left Lalwani to Uppal to run, to organise the supplies and work the low ground contacts, and Uppal had done as expected all these years. Creass knew about the man's overt addiction to the rose beer that was produced around the hillsides of the Lalwani base, but then half this planet's population were as well. Creass also knew that Uppal's third consort was spending her nights with his second consort rather than him. He also knew that Uppal had plans, and Creass would use them to his advantage now that he had lost Dreamstation as his main base.

"He isn't interested in the fields," Creass stated, "And he'll send more business my way again."

"Some of our other 'friends' might shy away if they know about him," Uppal argued carefully.

Creass shook his head. "You've spent too much time hiding away on this Wraith shit of a moon, Uppal." He pushed the pads aside and stood up, eager to get the meeting now.

He settled his jacket around his shoulders as he strode through the shaft of sunlight glowing in through the single window set in the ceiling. He missed the dark warm hallways of Dreamstation. These cold hard surfaces might look fancy and something Saoka might enjoy, but they weren't for Creass, but then he was adaptable. For now, this was his base, but he had plans.

As he followed the hollowed out stone corridor, a figure stepped into view at the far junction. Seeal wore a thick coat down to her backside, the black tones of her hair and outfit standing out sharply against the white walls. Her arms were crossed, her face as blank and bored as ever, but her eyes were always sharp.

He saw them focus momentarily on Uppal behind him, and saw the fraction of a frown touch her features before she looked away again.

She didn't like Uppal, and the feeling was mutual. She was a tough woman to read, but she had been his bodyguard since the first days of Dreamstation and he could tell she didn't approve of Lalwani either. She never seemed to feel the cold of the walls and rooms inside the hillside, but it was almost as if they made her colder, even more distant and inhuman.

As he moved through the junction of corridors, she fell into her customary place behind his shoulder. He didn't know where Uppal fitted into that positioning behind him, and he didn't really care. If Uppal and Seeal wanted to kill each other, he might interfere, but otherwise he didn't care as far as he could throw a dead Wraith. What he cared about was consolidating his operations without Dreamstation and following the contamination of the Elite's presence.

It was strange that brooding on his plans seemed easier in these cold hallways, and he wondered, as he strode for the main exit, whether cold itself could infect a person.

The doors were swept open for him, and the sunlight of Lalwani rushed forward, surrounding him.

He wasn't used to the sunlight yet. He hadn't had to deal with it in its natural raw form in ten years, and his eyes ached instantly as he walked out towards the concealed landing zone.

Set in the fold of the hillside, the entrance to the Lalwani base was hidden from view from any direction of the fields beyond, and the marble blocked electromagnetic scans from orbit. A short flight from the Portal and set in the sunside of the hill, it was a good enough base, even if the skies above Creass were disturbingly free to all.

It had been different on Dreamstation. There had been strict and easy control of who entered his base. There was no way of sneaking in through a porthole, unless you wanted to risk the vacuum of space – and a few had tried, only to meet the vacuum again, naked and unprotected.

He heard the high whine of the shuttle long before it appeared on its final approach. It was an early generation Olesian craft, old and endlessly repaired no doubt, but then people had to take care of smuggled Alliance technology, as it wasn't as if there were spare parts easily available. Unless you knew the right people.

Creass watched the expertly handled landed with pinched eyes, the dirt and grit swirling up into the bright air as the shuttle set down.

The engines shut down immediately, though the high whine continued for a few minutes afterwards as the main hatch opened.

Creass leant a fraction to his left, where Uppal stood close by. "We still have those air drivers from Belsar?"

"Yes, at least six left," Uppal replied.

"Good," Creass replied. "Pull out two, as it sounds like our guest's engines could use them."

"For free?" Uppal asked curiously.

"Nothing is for free, even if it's given in that light," Creass replied as he moved forward to meet the figures emerging out of the shuttle into the sunlight.

The two guards piled out first, weapons high and far too ready to be used. Creass ignored them, keeping his attention on the tall man stepping out to look at Lalwani for the first time.

"Creass," the man greeted with the testing superiority he always wore like a thick skin.

"Kolya," Creass greeted in return.

00000000  
TBC


	7. Carter

**INTERLUDE 7 - Carter**

Sam was getting a bad feeling, and it had little to do with the bean stew they had served last night in the Mess. She had lain awake half the night with an aching stomach and her thoughts filled with concerning reports.

The last few weeks had been crazy. The Wraith appeared to be making a concerted effort to cull a range of worlds close enough in the galactic scheme of things for her to be worried. With the Alliance pushing out its reach even further, the Wraith appeared to be reacting by hurting more of the unprotected systems. Presumably they were feeding up before battling the Alliance, but in the last two days, Sam had developed a new theory. The Wraith were clearing out the planets ahead of the Alliance expansion. They were taking the life force they wanted and then denying the Alliance the population of the planet.

"Maybe they're just pissing off the Alliance," Sumner suggested tactfully from his seat near her at the conference table.

Sam considered his point. "It's possible, but I would imagine there would be a more useful reason for the Wraith to use this tactic."

"Maybe it's a distraction technique, drawing the Alliance attention away from somewhere else," John suggested. He was half slumped back in his seat, appearing half asleep, but then he had barely made it back through the Gate late last night on their most recent evac mission. Which were getting far too frequent.

"Maybe it's because of us," Rodney suggested. "Maybe because we're clearing some planets, the Wraith are moving on to the next quicker?"

Sam frowned at that thought. "It certainly feels like we're clearing out half the planets we're visiting lately."

"Visiting?" John questioned with a tired smile.

"Okay," Sam conceded. "evacuating might be a more accurate description."

John nodded vaguely.

"And it's getting worse," Rodney put in. He had several healing grazes across his forehead and one cheek. He too had barely made it through the Gate yesterday. Despite McKay's less than lovable characteristics, she had grown somewhat fond of him over the last year. Though not as fond as he would like, but he had become less of a pain in that regard since he had started seeing Katie Brown. Sam couldn't deny some weird fascination as to how long Rodney would manage to keep the relationship going, and she had heard John and Ford mention something about a bet going on that very question. She of course pretended not to have heard anything about gambling in the city.

"I mean, we came this close," Rodney continued as he indicated a centimetre between his fingers, "and we would have been Wraith food yesterday."

"Yes, McKay, we all remember," John replied with a roll of his eyes.

"I'm just saying, we're running out of places to put these people," Rodney continued, his eyes wide with obvious worry. "Half of them are too terrified to go back to their own planets out of fear of the Alliance as much as the Wraith."

He had a valid point.

"How about our latest refugees?" She asked the table at large. "How do they feel about the Alliance?" She hadn't had a chance to sit down and speak directly with any of them late yesterday evening, for no apparent leader had stood out among the exhausted survivors and her own stomach had begun to protest against the bean stew.

"They seemed unhappy about the prospect of Alliance troops in their town when we first got there," John replied, "But there wasn't much in the way of formal protest as we've heard before, and when the Wraith arrived, I think they would have been more than happy to have had Alliance boots on the ground."

"So, perhaps some of these people may return to their own planet?" Sam asked.

"Looks like it," Sumner replied. "But, the East pier is starting to fill up with all the others we're relocating, and I'm needing to keep more security personnel on duty around the clock."

"Well, hopefully some of our other guests might be willing to move to this new planet with the returning refugees. If they aren't frightened of the Alliance that is."

"Perhaps they should be," Sumner added pointedly. His report on the fire fight between the Daedalus and the Wraith yesterday had held a very ominous tone and his description of the conversation with the Balista afterwards had only added to Sam's restless night.

She nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps it is time for me to visit with Torren again," she considered as she glanced at John. He was their official new ambassador to Athos. He had visited the planet twice a week over the last month, Woolsey with him most times, and the trade negotiations were almost complete. They had already shipped out their first small trades of kitchenware and medical supplies, while Athos had given them fresh fruit and grain. The beans however clearly were not going to be a favourite. Tava beans did not settle well in Sam's stomach.

"He mentioned a meeting with several more trading partners the last time we were there," John replied. On subject of his Alliance work, he nearly always became very focused, taking his new duties more seriously than she had ever seen him do. She had always suspected that giving the Major more responsibility would allow him to flourish, because despite his history and clashes with Sumner, he was clearly a great resource for her and the city. That Torren seemed as taken with him was good news and Sam had complete faith in John's representing them, with Woolsey supporting as necessary. The training wheels weren't ready to be removed just yet.

"You and Mr Woolsey are scheduled to visit Athos tomorrow?" She checked and John nodded, "Then see what you can arrange to help us to make some more friends within the Alliance as quickly as possible."

"I don't think that's going to make much difference on board the Balista," Sumner had to add in.

"No, but the more we are known as good allies and traders within the Alliance the better our reputation may become," Sam replied. "It can't hurt."

Sumner gave her the point with a faint tilt of his head and slight shrug.

"Otherwise, it seems that, for now," she continued, "the Alliance Military still sees us a friendly rather than an enemy. Hopefully the initial hostility you met yesterday was born more of the individual commander's attitude to us and not reflective of any new change within the Alliance."

"I'll see what I can find out from Torren," John added positively.

Sam had to agree somewhat with some of Sumner's scepticism though. Athos was a trading agricultural world and it was doubtful that they would have much in the way of military experience. What they needed was to work with the Elite some more, with whom Athos did have some important links.

She glanced at John again as she ended the meeting. "Major Sheppard, a moment."

He paused from leaving and looked back with a cautious frown. Lieutenant Ford muttered something to him as he passed the Major, leaving last.

Sam settled her hip against the conference table, communicating the less formal nature of this conversation. John moved closer, his caution dropping away slightly.

"It appears that the turning point yesterday with the Balista might have been due to our previous contact with the Elite," she said.

John nodded as he stopped close to her, his hands on his hips. "Most likely," he admitted. "From what the Colonel said."

"Do you think there's any chance of being able to communicate with the Elite again through Torren?" She asked.

"You want to send them a message?" He asked.

"Not specifically, but if we can keep an open channel of communication with them, it can only help."

He nodded along with her answer. It was good to see him like this – seriously focused – he really was taking his new position well, and she saw a lot of thought going on behind his eyes. "I agree," he said, "but not sure how, other than keeping up our regular visits and maybe perhaps an Elite is visiting Tjaru at the time..." he suggested. There was a faint caution in his suggestion, as if he wasn't sure she would be willing to listen to his opinion. Sam wondered if that was due to Colonel Sumner's influence or if it was the Major's past.

"Emmagan, Si, or Halling," she recalled the Athosian Elite names, "They might be on Athos in the future. You've seemed to have built up a good rapport with them," she asked.

"I guess so," John replied, shifting slightly as if uncomfortable. He usually was with any admittance of competence on his part. "I think if they're on Athos, I could get to meet up with them."

"If you get the chance, then go for it," Sam authorised. "It might not be something that will significantly change much in the way of the Military fleet's attitude right away, but simply keeping that channel open could help us in the future."

John shifted again. "Sure," he agreed. "I think it would help," he agreed.

"Good. And if you can find a way of getting Torren's opinion on the fleet, that would be useful. Perhaps even some political gossip that he might share with you," Sam suggested, pleased with the informal discussion and that the Major was clearly on the same page. She preferred to leave this with John rather than Woolsey, who didn't seem to have the same connection with Torren, and who wouldn't perhaps know how to interpret what Torren might share.

"I was thinking that maybe when we get around to organising Torren's official visit here," John suggested. "It might be good if say if an Elite or two, maybe Emmagan and Si again, came with him."

Sam nodded. "I think that could work well, as long as we keep the Elite numbers down so as not to...upset...the Colonel," she said as tactfully as she could. She should not demean Colonel Sumner in front of a member of his team and staff, but she knew that John would understand.

He nodded immediately. "Good point," he replied carefully, and she had to smile.

It would be good if a trusted Elite or two visited Atlantis again, because then Sam could sit down properly with them and get a good feeling for the Elite mindset outside of John and Woolsey's reports. She had liked Emmagan the few times she had met her, but hadn't had the chance to properly sit alone and talk with her. If she visited Atlantis along with Torren, which could easily be explained as she was the Athosian leader's eldest daughter, it would be the perfect opportunity to help cement relations between Atlantis and the Elite.

0000  
TBC


	8. Torren

**INTERLUDE 8 - Torren**

The food was magnificent. The five herb stuffing packed into a baked red bulb root was one of his favourite meals, and he all but gobbled it down now. He poured out the last of the thick seasoned gravy over the baked vegetables and stewed spiced berries.

It was so good that Torren had not even glanced at the mountain of work he had brought with him to his mid day meal. It was in truth several hours past the mid hour, but the kitchen staff had kept the meal warmed through for him and he suspected the gravy had been freshly prepared just before the meal had been served to him.

It had not passed his notice that over the last two days he had been served some of his most favourite of meals. Clearly the Governing Buildings' Lead Chef had taken pity on Torren's empty family building. It was the first time Zabetha and Rhashar had left Tjaru since their wedding, and with Charin on an extended vacation with her cousin, there was no one to sit with him in the family area as he ate. Teyla had not visited for some time due to her work, and Elkaska had returned to his nomadic trading life after a brief stay. Everyone was away, and his home felt echoingly empty.

Sat alone with his meal, he had only the multitude of electronic pads of work to accompany him. And he had much work to do with Zabetha away, for she ran whole divisions of the governing work for him, that though he oversaw, she had been skilled at running for a long time now. She had assistants to fill in much of the administrative work, but the major discussions and decisions now fell solely back on him full time. That extra work, on top of his own usual busy schedule, had kept him distracted from the silence of his home, but sat alone at the large family dining table, he missed his them all. And in these, usually rare, times he was entirely alone, Tagan's absence felt especially heavy upon him.

He could almost imagine her sitting beside him at the table. She would have loved such quiet times, to enjoy each other's company solely. But, she had never sat at this table with him, had never lived in this building complex. She had been gone many long years now, but at times, his grief felt as fresh as the first years after her death at the hands of the Wraith.

He dropped his attention to the pads encircling his plate, and forced himself to return his thoughts to his work. He set down his fork and tapped the top pad to life – the new resolution on field management and limitation on fertiliser use. He sighed as he saw how many pages the Agricultural advisory had prepared for him.

He picked up his fork again and decided it would be best to focus on his meal after all. He sliced through three different vegetables and piled them expertly up on his fork and then scooped extra layers of gravy over it all. He munched on the magical mix of flavours, turning his eyes upwards, and wondered what he could give the chefs as a thank you.

The soft sound of doors opening outside in the entrance lobby of the family area drew his attention as he chewed. He could tell instantly from the weight of the steps that it was not Charin returned from her trip early, here to fill his loneliness, and the last thing he wanted now was urgent work. He was so late to this meal as it was, and he hated to have to leave while his plate was still half full.

Hakon stepped into view as Torren wiped his mouth to ensure no gravy smeared his chin.

"Torren, I apologise for interrupting your meal," Hakon began, with very apparent regret.

"It is alright, Hakon," Torren replied around his mouthful of food as he set down his cutlery. His assistant was very protective of Torren's privacy when necessary, so if he had seen it important enough to interrupt him then it was urgent. "What is it?"

"The Atlantis Representative is here," Hakon replied as he stopped at the far end of the table, his tablet in his hands.

That was usual enough news. Torren lifted his diary pad and checked the day's details on it. "I had not realised I was meeting with them today."

"No, it is an informal request for a meeting," Hakon replied. "I do not think it is urgent, but you said to prioritise anything related to Atlantis."

"Yes," Torren replied as he swallowed. He hated to have to leave his meal. Only...

"Is Mr Woolsey with them?" He asked.

The Atlantis visitors were becoming almost commonplace now in Tjaru, their twice weekly visits making them regular faces in the complex. It pleased Torren greatly to see his vision of strengthening ties slowly gaining ground. He had organised various meetings between Atlantis and the heads of trade, so did not always meet with them himself. Today, he had thought those from Atlantis were to be shown around the courtyards and spend some time discussing the medicinal uses of some Athosian plants. He suspected that perhaps such focus was not to Mr Woolsey's interest, so perhaps the man might not be among the group today. He was not sure he had the time and energy to deal with the efficient, yet somehow draining, man. He was clearly an excellent diplomat and negotiator, but Torren far preferred dealing with Major Sheppard, who had accompanied almost every visit by Atlantis, being their official representative to Athos.

"No," Hakon replied with a knowing smile. "It is just Major Sheppard. The others of the Atlantis party are still with the gardeners and healers."

Torren relaxed a little at that. Major Sheppard, or John, was easy enough company and Torren felt more than happy to meet with him in the informal setting of the dining room.

"Then, if he agrees, perhaps he would sit with me while I take my mid meal?" Torren suggested.

Hakon looked shocked for a moment and Torren smiled victoriously up at him. "In here?" Hakon asked glancing at the family room around them.

"Yes," Torren replied. It was true enough that it was an extremely rare thing to do, to invite a political figure into the family area of the Governing Buildings' complex.

Hakon frowned deeply before he forced himself to smooth his expression. "Of course," he replied, but Torren smiled up at him.

"There will be no need for extra guards inside the entrance," he anticipated Hakon's thought.

Hakon frowned again. "Is that wise?"

"Need I remind you, Hakon, that Major Sheppard saved both my and Zabetha's lives?" Hakon's expression softened and he nodded. "My home is always open to him now."

"I understand that, but he is still not of our world. We still barely know anything of him and his people," Hakon replied carefully. Torren appreciated his concern, but it was not necessary in this case.

"I know," Torren replied as he picked his cutlery back up. "But, considering his past actions, and that Teyla trusts him, I think I am safe to eat a meal alone with him." He started in on some more of the stuffing. "Would you ask the kitchen staff if there is any leftover food that Major Sheppard might like to try?"

"Of course, and perhaps another plateful for you?" Hakon replied cheekily as he left.

Torren grinned at his retreating back.

The doors closed in the lobby and Torren was left alone in silence once more. He made himself slow his eating when he heard the doors open again a few minutes later and voices drifted to him.

"We will bring some refreshments shortly," Hakon was saying as both he and Major Sheppard stepped into view.

It stuck Torren once again how tall and yet non imposing Major Sheppard appeared. As usual his eyes were bright and he smiled instantly.

"Leader Torren," he greeted and he moved forward.

"Major Sheppard, welcome," Torren greeted in turn, rising slightly from his chair. "Please take a seat," he suggested, pulling out the closest one on the side of the table. "Please forgive my eating-"

"I didn't mean to interrupt your lunch," Major Sheppard immediately offered.

"It is no inconvenience," Torren replied as he pulled the chair out further. "You may even like to try some for yourself?" He offered and saw Hakon nod faintly, indicating that there was food left over to share with the Atlantis Representative.

"Well, if you don't mind," Sheppard replied with a wayward smile, that seemed his usual enough smiling discomfort and Torren didn't detect any distaste at sitting at another's dining table. Some cultures objected to such informality, but Torren was happy this was not the case with those from Earth. It was another small piece of cultural information on those from Atlantis, though perhaps more telling about Major Sheppard's attitudes.

Torren sat back down as Sheppard settled down in the chair Torren had pulled out for him.

"Looks good," Sheppard offered as he eyed up Torren's plate.

"It is indeed. One of my favourites in fact. The five herb stuffing is particularly good."

Almost on cue, he heard the doors open again and the scent of new food drifted in ahead of the attendant who walked in with two trays expertly balanced in her hands. A near full plate was set in front of Sheppard and a selection of the last of the vegetables in three bowls before Torren, and, happily, one contained a last stuffed bulb root. Torren tried not to appear too eager as he slid the root onto his plate.

A large jug was set down between him and Sheppard, the last of the gravy.

"The gravy is also particularly tasty," Torren assured him.

"Looks and smells great," Sheppard commented. "Athosian cuisine is one of the best perks of this job."

Torren smiled, pleased and amused. "I will pass that along to the chefs, they will be pleased to learn their work is appreciated just as much by those from another galaxy."

"If they want to come work on Atlantis, that would be great," Sheppard suggested as he forked up some vegetables with some stuffing.

"I trust that the courtyard tour and the medicinal seminar are going well?" Torren asked as he poured gravy over his seconds and then set the jug closer to Sheppard.

Sheppard nodded, without replying for his mouth was full and his eyebrows rose up his forehead. "Wow, this _really_ is good," he uttered as soon as he could.

Torren grinned.

"Um yes, the tour was interesting," Sheppard replied as he picked up the gravy jug and poured some more over his food.

Torren smiled at the man's choice of description. "Not quite your area of interest, Major?" He asked.

Sheppard tilted his head in silent agreement. "Please, call me John."

He had made the offer before, but Torren was careful to use his title in front of others. He was not entirely sure how those from Earth allowed the use of their first name, but he suspected that, once permission given, it was fine to drop titles when out of political situations.

"John," Torren corrected. "I would think perhaps next time you would enjoy a tour of the kitchens and perhaps trade could extend to some of our spices as well as fresh produce."

"I'm sure everyone on Atlantis would go for that," John replied with a smile around his food. He clearly was enjoying the meal. "Though, the tava beans didn't quite agree with everyone."

"Ahh, yes that can happen. The beans need to be cooked longer then. It is difficult sometimes with tava beans, the fierceness of the cooking heat is almost as important as the length of cooking. If the heat source is not fiery enough, then the cooking time needs to be extended. They will sit comfortably in almost every stomach then."

"I'll pass that along," John replied.

They ate in silence for a few moments, the click of cutlery and chewing the only sounds.

Torren glanced at John, and noticed a faint bruise across his closest cheekbone. A few times there had been visible signs of the man's warrior career during his visits. On one visit a few weeks ago, he had been visibly limping, but the injury had appeared healed by his next visit.

"How do things fare in Atlantis?" He asked since John did not appear ready to jump to the subject that this meeting would be about, but then perhaps the glorious food had distracted him. Torren had been far too easily distracted from his own work by it.

"We're very busy. We've been trying to keep ahead of the Wraith's renewed attacks on some worlds. Trying to get there before the culling starts and evacuate those we can."

Torren nodded. He had heard some rumours about that. "I had heard that there was a new strategy among some Wraith Hives, but no details."

John nodded and there was a pregnant pause as John piled some stuffing and gravy onto his fork. "We've had a couple of small run ins with the Alliance Military as well." John added as he looked up from his plate, and Torren knew they had reached the subject of the unplanned meeting.

"Was there any exchange of fire?" Torren asked worriedly. He was sure he would have heard if there had been, having some military contacts, including Elkaska.

"No, but it came close apparently," John replied.

"Genii ships?" Torren asked.

"I think one of them was. This morning a Genii ship was seen over a planet we trade with. The locals called us in, worried that they were about to taken over by the Alliance." John replied, watching Torren carefully, the unusual hazel eyes intent yet cautious. "The Genii commander said they had been chased off course out of Alliance territory by a Wraith cruiser."

"You did not believe him?"

"I wasn't there myself, but the Daedalus' commander said the ship's weapons were trained on them throughout the 'discussion'."

"Mmm, the Genii always attend any 'discussion' with weapons ready. I would not necessarily take that as an open sign of hostility."

"And we had a run in with the Balista," John added.

"The Commander of the Balista is also a warrior a little too ready to see hostility everywhere," Torren added. "But, he is a good man, an excellent warrior." He watched John nod with some acceptance, but he sensed that John was not overly convinced. The interaction with the Balista had clearly worried John and his people. Torren considered his next comment for a long moment before he added, "He has become very good friends with Teyla."

John's eyes snapped to his, with a speed and intensity that was stronger than Torren had expected. Then the man's expression slipped under his control again and he nodded more decisively.

"No better reference then," he joked, but Torren believed Teyla's absent recommendation had alone convinced John of the commander's better nature.

The sharp initial look had been interesting though.

John returned his attention to his meal. "This really is great food."

Torren nodded, amused at the blatant switch of conversational subject. John did not wish to speak further of Teyla. Which was new. John usually managed to bring her up in some way during each of his visits, usually under the guise of forming some common ground with Torren and political discussion that included the Elite. Torren rather enjoyed speaking of his eldest daughter with John, even in short political ways, for it was nice to have someone to talk about her with who was not overshadowed by her role as Elite warrior.

"I am glad you are enjoying it," Torren replied as he reached for the gravy jug, "More gravy?" John shook his head so Torren poured more over his own plate. "I would imagine that the altercations with the Genii ship and the Balista have concerned Colonel Carter, and the other leaders from Earth."

John nodded as he chewed and swallowed, his gaze meeting Torren's directly. "It has them a little worried."

Torren smiled at the subtext conveyed in John's pointed look and tone – those in Atlantis were very worried that hostile attitudes against them were increasing within the Alliance.

Torren put down the gravy jug and set about cutting up the last of the vegetables he had added to his plate. "It is true that there is a strong, very loud and forthright, faction within the High Council which remains suspicious about Atlantis following Garthew's assassination and the attacks on my family. It is ironic that Nolfi, Garthew's replacement on the High Council, is one of the most outspoken on this view, when Garthew himself was very positive about the role Atlantis could play in helping us free this galaxy of the Wraith."

"Maybe that was another reason why he was targeted," John suggested carefully.

Torren pondered that. "An interesting thought, and perhaps Iketani was aware of who would replace him. Nolfi was known to be most likely to replace Garthew on his eventual retirement, as were his views against contact with Atlantis." Torren frowned at the idea though. It implied there might be even more twists and turns within the already complex politics of the High Council. Was there another element who had worked with Iketani to alter the arrangement of the High Council?

What was clear though, was that now, more than ever, it was vital that Atlantis gain more support within the Alliance. He always believed that growing and lasting trust could be built through trading, but there were some other ways of adding to Atlantis' good reputation.

"Do you remember Sitayi?" Torren asked. "She is the Peldyr Representative to Athos."

"Nice lady," John replied immediately. "I mean, Representative," he amended quickly, having falling into informality easily.

Torren smiled. "Yes she is. I believe she invited those from Atlantis to visit her world and enter into some trade."

"Yes, I remember her mentioning it in passing."

"I would recommend them to you. Those of Pelydr are considered to be the wisest of the galaxy and they are trusted by _all_ in the Alliance," Torren informed him pointedly.

John paused, having caught the emphasis. Torren saw the thoughts passing across the man's expressive face before he nodded with understanding.

"They are very open and kind people, and often work as facilitators in all manner of negotiations and trades," Torren added.

"How would you recommend we take up her offer?" John asked directly, his manner abruptly more focused and professional.

"I have heard from the Athosian Representative on Pelydr that Atlantis is discussed frequently among the talking circles there, and I am sure my Representative could make some enquiries."

"That would be really helpful," John replied.

Torren inclined his head. "I have no doubt that they will instantly invite a delegation to their world. They are very approachable and curious people, and likely already expect Sitayi' invitation to be enough to expect you to visit. It is also worthy of note that they are a very peaceful people, and therefore I would recommend that when you visit that you do not wear any obvious weaponry."

"Thank you, Torren."

"You are welcome, John. I suspect they will ask that you specifically be part of the Atlantis delegation, since Sitayi will have told them of you and your status with my people."

"You think that will help?" John asked, more from curiosity than objection from what Torren could tell.

"They are people who love connections and strengthening bonds," Torren replied, his thoughts made connections of their own as he spoke.

John nodded and focused down on the last of his food.

Torren watched him for a moment. Sitayi had stressed to him the significance of John and Atlantis to the Alliance and to Athos, but also of John's bond with Teyla. He had followed Sitayi' advice, leaving them alone with each other, and had witnessed the two interacting enough times now to have seen for himself the natural bond between them. He had worried at times as to the direction that bond might lead, but he trusted Sitayi and Teyla. However, he wondered if he had misinterpreted Sitayi' comments. Perhaps she had meant the bond would be more political and lead to wider connections between Atlantis and the Alliance. Here John was subtly asking for advice and assistance for his people, and what had brought them both to this place where they would be sitting at Torren's family table together, was Teyla. Perhaps it was that link, that bridge of contact, which was all that Sitayi had referred to in her prediction.

He looked away down to his food. He was being foolish though to pretend that fact might annul the more personal emotional bonds he had sensed between his daughter and John. It was perhaps his fatherly protectiveness that was the cause of his lingering concern. As much as he was happy for his daughters to find love, Zabetha's marriage being one of his happiest days, he could not help but be wary of what Sitayi might have seen for Teyla, despite its importance for the survival of the Alliance. For Teyla's heart, if it extended to John, might meet risks and pains for which no battle would have prepared her. Any deep feelings were at risk of hurt, even if they were only to remain of friendship, but ones that extended across political and even galactic lines through battles and great differences, were hardly likely to end well. He did not wish such hurt for his daughter, despite how strong and capable she was. He would always try to protect her.

Yet, sitting with John now, at his family table, Torren could not deny that he liked John. He was a good man, and seemed to have a good heart and soul to him, and Torren found he also wished he could save the man of hurt as well. If he and Teyla did begin something, even as innocent as any could be, it could hardly end well for either of them. Perhaps if they had been born into a galaxy without the Wraith, or without the differences between their people, they might have been able to enjoy a proper relationship.

As it stood though, he predicted heartbreak for them both. A part of him almost spoke the words to warn John now, to remind him of what the larger consequences could be, but another part of Torren whispered Sitayi' words back to him, and that John was an important tool for him. Through John, Torren was able to accomplish his plan to strengthen and forge more ties throughout the galaxy, even across the vast stars to another galaxy. As much as he was concerned for emotions and hearts, he was also a leader of his people, and using harsh words to John now, might undermine such a target. Would it be selfishness on his part to try and block what their future might hold for them together?

Sitayi had described the Alliance's current state as being like a fragile vase, with cracks forming throughout. It was important that Torren do all he could to help mend those cracks and keep the Alliance together as tightly as possible, for Sitayi had predicted that already the vase was weakening. Atlantis now seemed to be part of that vase, pushing its shards apart as much as it was helping to mend other cracks, and Torren had to do all he could, for his people and all those in this galaxy, to keep the Alliance together.

Teyla risked her life willingly for that same ideal almost every day, so would she also willingly sacrifice her heart as well?

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	9. Sitayi

**Note: **Thank you guys for the continuing reviews, you're all so kind. I'm afraid I'm back to posting just one chapter a day now, rather than two, as the weekend is over. And, yes, I do hear many of you asking – When are we going to hear from John's pov? Mmmm wonder when it'll be his turn...

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**INTERLUDE 9 - Sitayi**

A gentle breeze drifted between the trees, stirring soft chimes and beads together. It was a wonderfully warm breeze, and Sitayi closed her eyes to enjoy the feel of it against her face.

She drew in the scents of new summer; the smell of new grasses, flowers, and the trees bursting with life. Pelydr was a warm planet almost all year round, but it was these days she enjoyed the most, when the sun was not too strong as to glare against the eyes, but hot enough to be comforting against the skin.

She opened her eyes and coloured light played through her vision, the sunlight tinted by the small octagons of coloured glass suspended within the shimmering web above where she and Elkaska sat. She watched the sunlight sparkle off the beads and flecks of metal knotted within the design – one of her favourites – stretched high above between the trees.

Beside her, Elkaska sighed happily and she smiled round at him. He had always been one able to equally enjoy rest as much as the very busy aspects of his life. She watched a shaft of blue light sway across his aging features. She could remember him as young man, seeming not so long ago to her, but it pleased her to see the character of his choices and life so perfectly reflected in his face. The curve of laughter lines around his mouth and eyes, and the flush of health across his skin.

The rise of her gift was as gentle as the light across Elkaska as she gazed at him, feeling the threads of his life among the rest of those he loved and traded with between such far spread stars.

She had foreseen his death long before now, and in the vision he had withered aged features, lying on his death bed, two women sat close beside him, softly talking and comforting him as his last breath left his body. She had not seen the faces of the women comforting him, and she did not know how old he would be when he would meet his end, but she had seen it was still far off and it pleased her deeply, and especially so to know she would have the honour of being there to see him in his last moments. Their friendship was an enjoyable and gentle thing, formed easily on a strange similarity between them that she could not define, but it pleased her. His company was always enjoyable and never demanding. He never asked her of her gift, though he knew of it, apart his occasional pointed teasing questions about how well his trading business might become in the future. To which she always teasingly replied that he would own all the stars. He had replied the first time that he would not know how to trade stars, but then had since come up with various amusing trading ideas on the matter.

As she watched him now, her gift swirling to life so easily now it was like breathing, she felt images, feelings, sounds, even scents, all sliding and dancing within her inner mind. They all danced together so fast, blurring and mixing so intensely that it was only with well developed focus that she could draw one moment forward enough to observe it clearly. As she had matured, over many generations now, she had learnt that sometimes it was best to allow one moment within it all, one future memory, to choose to slide forward from the mix. At such times, she felt that it was as if the universe itself, or perhaps her own expanded eternal consciousness, was communicating back to her, leading her along her own line of destiny.

Now, she let her senses to drift through the flashes of images and feelings until within it all, one moment coalesced abruptly, pouring fully into her present mind.

She heard the clash of weapons, worried shouts around her and the sharp smell of burning. Then a familiar push of movement under her, informing her that her future self was on a ship, one likely dropping out of hyperspace. She saw her hand reaching out ahead of her, pushing aside cloth, or perhaps someone's arm, and Elkaska came into view. He stood tall, worriedly frowning ahead of him, away off to her right. He was older, not too much though, and she noticed the dark stain of blood across his closest ear and down the side of his neck. It was however, the fear she saw barely controlled in his face that truly captured her future self's attention so acutely.

And then the view swung round, turning in smearing blurring motion as her future self turned to look in the same direction as Elkaska.

A wide view-screen confirmed they were on a ship, but she did not recognise the design. However, her future self's full attention was fixed on the vessels sweeping through the dark space outside the ship. She watched bolts of weapons fire flying through the vacuum, shot from ships she did not know, but had seen once before in a vision. She felt her future self's rise of fear as the energy bolts tore through the darkness, heading directly for the view-screen, towards their ship.

She heard shouts of panic and warning, as blazing red light crossed the last moment of the vision, and suddenly she was back in the sunlight, sitting beside Elkaska with all the peaceful time in the world.

She blinked and looked away, her heart racing from the fear she had felt in the vision. Her future self knew she would not die in space in that moment, but she could be hurt, others around her could be injured or killed. And she would never know until she caught up with that future moment.

"Seen something troubling?" Elkaska asked gently from his seat and she looked round at him and made herself smile.

"Nothing too great to worry about," she lied. She knew Elkaska would survive that battle, but it had felt so very dangerous, so very...vital.

"Mmmm," Elkaska replied doubtfully before he looked away, knowing not to push her to say more. "I hope all my stars are safe," he said as he leant his head back against the back of his chair.

"They are indeed," she replied with a smile, the threads of the vision's heightened emotions already easing, like they were being cast into the breeze around her to drift away from her troubled soul. She drew in the forest air again as she settled her own head back and looked back up to the shimmering web design above her, to the coloured light and warm breeze.

Some long silent comfortable moments later, she felt a push of her gift again, but different this time. She smiled as she felt threads of connection dance to life against her extra senses as she heard footsteps approaching softly across the open space behind her and Elkaska's chairs.

Elkaska heard them as well and leant out of his seat and looked back. "Mistress Emmagan," he greeted with a bright grin.

Sitayi smiled as she so clearly saw the love he had for his niece. She knew how much Teyla meant to him, Zabetha too, but in his eldest niece Sitayi knew Elkaska saw much of his own characteristics. And perhaps it was also the reflection of his lost sister.

"Uncle," Teyla replied as she stepped into Sitayi' view at the far side of Elkaska's seat, from which he was fast rising. He reached out his hands and set them onto Teyla's shoulders and they performed the Athosian greeting.

Sitayi smiled at the dancing threads of destiny she felt stirring around her. She had not directly seen the two of them meeting in this moment before now, but she could often feel the pull of enjoyable moments through her gift. This would be what had caused such a feeling - watching the two Athosians greet one another, and feeling so pleased that she had helped arrange another family meeting.

Teyla smiled as she lifted her forehead from her uncle's and patted his shoulders as he squeezed hers. "I hope he has not bored you too much, Sitayi?"

Sitayi smiled at Teyla's instant informality. It was a high sign of respect for the Elite warrior to do so. "No more than usual," Sitayi replied as she rose from her seat and approached.

Teyla lifted her hands onto her shoulders and Sitayi leant her forehead forward to accept the Athosian honour. As she touched foreheads with Teyla, felt her strong shoulders under her old hands, she felt once more the power and destiny in the Elite woman. She was such a powerful and vital nexus of events it was still a little shocking for Sitayi at times. It seemed she met more people with that feeling as the years passed.

Dangerous and yet such potential times were head of them all. Everything would be challenged. Much would be lost and perhaps far more would eventually be gained than anyone would predict. Even her.

Teyla stepped back with another smile.

Coloured light in blue and red slid over her, across her dark tight suit of thin armour and the hilts of her two famous swords against her back. Only Elite were permitted to carry weapons openly on Pelydr, and even then, they wore far less than normal out of respect.

Teyla was every bit the picture of a powerful, honourable Elite warrior. She carried herself with dignity and stoic control at all times, except for when she was at home with her family. Only at such times did Teyla let her guard drop enough to show more emotion, but even then Sitayi could see the inner control. She did not judge it, for it was part of who Teyla was, and how she had to be for her life's work. She was a Wraith killer, a Seeker of the highest order, and occasional member of the Military Council. There was great weight upon her shoulders, but she was more than capable of carrying it all.

"Thank you for the chance to visit Pelydr," Teyla said as she looked around at the trees and the shimmering web above them. "I always enjoy my visits to your world."

"You are always welcome here, Honoured Elite," Sitayi stressed. "But, for now I will leave you and your uncle to enjoy your afternoon together. I have a meeting circle to attend later. I hope to meet with you tomorrow morning perhaps?" She asked, feeling already that she would indeed have time alone with the Elite woman.

"I look forward to it."

"You'll both miss me," Elkaska stated as he stepped up to them, his light coat back around his shoulders.

"You have an important trading event to get to?" Teyla asked him.

"Yes, I have large stalls to set up on two marketing stations over the next few days, so I must depart this evening. Should be fun trading opportunities," he replied with a cheerful grin, "But, first, I need your opinion on a gift for Zabetha and Rhakshar," he said more seriously to Teyla.

"You need _my_ advice on a purchase?" Teyla asked doubtfully.

"I know it is out of character for me," Elkaska replied with a smile, "but I believe I need your sister's eye to tell me if Zabetha will appreciate it. It is quite a large piece of furniture and of a certain taste," he continued thoughtfully. "I am almost certain Rhakshar will like it, but your sister..."

"I will be happy to lend you my sisterly opinion," Teyla replied. Sitayi sensed more depth to the comment than appeared on the surface. Teyla and Zabetha had always had a somewhat strained relationship, but it felt as if something had shifted there. Sitayi already knew the two would share some dramatic life experiences together in the future, so it pleased her to see perhaps the start of that beginning now.

"The trader has a shop an hour's journey by hover transport from here, by the emerald lakes," Elkaska said. "I thought we could follow the lake walks together to the shops?"

"I would enjoy that," Teyla replied with a bright smile, sunlight sparkling across her face and shoulders. "Sitayi, are you sure you would not like to join us?" She offered.

"I would enjoy it, but I have work to attend to. Enjoy your time together, and the emerald lakes are beautiful to behold. I look forward to hearing about this gift idea of his for Zabetha and Rhakshar." She had no idea as to the gift and she particularly enjoyed the chance to discover new things unseen by her.

"Very well, I will see you tomorrow morning," Teyla replied as she inclined her head, another significant sign of respect from an Elite warrior.

"I have arranged for you to have the sleeping cabin at the end of the path again," Sitayi told her as she indicated the long sweeping path that ran along the edge of the trees. Her own people did not live or sleep in enclosed buildings, but there were cabins built for visitors, spread throughout the parkland and trees. She new Teyla particularly liked the furthest cabin due to its strategic placement in the area, and perhaps also for the view of the lake.

"Thank you, Sitayi," Teyla said.

Sitayi bowed deeply to them both. "Enjoy your afternoon," she encouraged.

They smiled and turned away together, Elkaska's steps seeming excited as he walked with his niece.

"You did not bring Ketra with you," he asked with a hint of disappointment.

"No," Teyla replied. "On her only visit to Pelydr before, she was a little too ecstatic to see so many trees and vegetation. I fear there would be no blossoms, fruit, or even leaves left in any of the forest if she stayed here overnight."

Sitayi laughed silently to herself as she sat back down, their voices drifting away, until just the breeze continued on around Sitayi.

Time slid by easily, the sun having moved significantly across the sky by the time she next opened her eyes. She listened to the footfalls passing along the paths, the soft voices of her people going about their lives, and the chipper of two flower birds bickering in the trees. It was nest building season for them, so perhaps it was a disagreement over a nesting site or over how to correctly build the home for the plump female's eggs.

A whisper of cloth moved closer and she felt the stirring of importance again. It was unexpected and Sitayi glanced round to see one of her assistants moving towards her at a calm pace, yet with a particular purpose in his step. The sun glowed over the young man's lighter purple skin, his heritance more of the higher mountain terraces than her own.

He smiled at her as he saw her attention, and he increased his pace. Something interesting indeed was occurring.

Sitayi enjoyed surprises.

"Wise elder," he greeted. "A new discussion circle is being formed. We have off world guests." He reached her and stood tall, his hands delicately folded together. He was a calm and very centred man, an excellent advisor and supporter of her political work.

"Who has come?" She asked.

"The renewed invitation to Atlantis has yielded instant fruit," he replied. "A clan of five have arrived through the portal and are being welcomed into a circle."

Sitayi felt a spark of delighted surprise. Those of Atlantis were here on Pelydr. She had known they would visit, and even if she had not, she would still have extended the initial invitation to their Representative Major Sheppard upon meeting him on Athos.

The surprise teased her senses. "Is the Athosian Representative from Atlantis among them?" She asked as she rose swiftly from her seat. "Named Major John Sheppard?"

How surprising and yet magical this was, and that he might be visiting on the same day that Teyla was here.

"Yes, I believe he is - a tall man with short dark hair?"

"Yes, with an easy smile," Sitayi added with a grin as she marched the way back across the lawn. "This is wonderful."

She had not seen this directly, but she had known Atlantis would come to Pelydr many times. This visit today, though unseen by her, stirred up fascinating threads of importance through her gift as she stormed across the grass with the speed of a woman half her age.

It seemed that she may have inadvertently played a part in bringing about more today than just an unexpected first visit by Atlantis though, for Teyla also happened to be here on Pelydr. At the same time as Major Sheppard!

Sitayi would have to let it play itself out though - she would not interfere in what was occurring around her. She swore that at times that it felt as if the universe worked through her as much as it revealed itself to her.

It was very exciting.

She strode forward faster, her clothes snapping against her she was moving so swiftly.

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	10. Woolsey

**Note:** A short chapter for tonight, heading towards the final stretch of this fic now.

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**INTERLUDE 10 - Woolsey**

Through his career, Richard had been sent into many difficult and challenging political discussions. He had investigated and interviewed a great variety of different people, within many different organisations, and had travelled to a large number of countries and even planets. When the IOA had sent him to the Pegasus galaxy to assist in the tentative political situation with the Alliance, he had known he would be facing even more challenging, yet vital, work. Though, admittedly still somewhat nervous at the prospect, he enjoyed the work. He felt he could contribute much to establishing good connections and common ground between Earth and the Alliance through logical discussion and negotiation. It had started well too, for he had been very successful in working a neat and intelligent trading agreement with Athos.

He had even managed to school Major Sheppard, somewhat, to the delicacies of politics. It was not the easiest of jobs, but the Major appeared well liked on Athos, which wasn't that surprising since he had personally saved the Athosian leader's life – always a good building point for political relations!

He hoped that relations with this new world, Pelydr, would be equally as successful, for from what Major Sheppard had learnt from Leader Torren these people were highly respected throughout the Alliance. If he could help them understand the situation from Atlantis' side, to make them see that the city was not a threat to the military and political balance of the Alliance, then perhaps he could make a real difference.

That had been his goal and his ideal as he had travelled to Pelydr with Major Sheppard and three soldiers as back up. He was used to the military entourage, but today none of them wore obvious weaponry. Richard had been tough on that point, since Torren had appeared to stress it so significantly to the Major. He knew that the soldiers, and Major Sheppard, had concealed weapons, but that should be fine. He wouldn't want them to be unarmed. You never knew what might happen in any meeting, let alone one in the Pegasus galaxy.

That said - he had not really been prepared for how things would be on Pelydr. A race of purple skinned people was bizarre enough to be somewhat distracting, though he strove not to show it, but the complete lack of buildings and the hot sun was not all that was unusual.

He had not expected to conduct the first official meeting between their peoples while sat in a circle of stones in the middle of a park. Not that it wasn't a very attractive setting, with trees dotted around the parkland and the grass only broken up by two long twisting paths outlining the park, along which Pelydrians wandering at ease, no one caring who overheard any discussion in the circle. In the far distance he had caught the shine of sunlight on water, which he was guessing was a lake, and spread around the park there were various other circles of stones surrounding others deep in discussion. He could see some other non Pelydrians within some of those circles, which was good to see. He even recognised a few styles of clothing to identify which planets those other visitors might come from, thanks to Torren's information and those he had met directly on Athos. It was important to learn everything you could, from clothes to gestural styles, of those you negotiated with, for it all gave insight into their culture and intentions.

However, sitting out in a park under the hot sun was a little too much like a garden party for him to feel entirely comfortable, and he was feeling quite out of place.

And uncomfortably warm in his suit.

He had been given a chair to sit on at least, and as he had sat down, he had adjusted it a little further under the shade of the tree near which their 'discussion circle' had been arranged. There were two Pelydrians in the circle with them along with Mata, the Athosian who was ambassador to Pelydr, who he had met back at the Athosian wedding over a month ago. She was a very poised friendly woman, who had many years worth of experience in her work here, and Richard suspected Torren had instructed her to be a helpful facilitator in this meeting.

It appeared that there was no set government on Pelydr. They were run by a highly democratic system, by which regions across the planet appointed someone to sit in the Ruling Circle, which was the closest thing to a ruling body on the planet. It seemed it was a rather relaxed system though, with a region's representative sometimes being who was available that day to stand in as needed in the Ruling circle. That said, Richard suspected the system worked for them, for in just the half hour he had been here, he could see why the Pelydrians were held in such high regard within the Alliance.

They were a very noble people, kind, intelligent, and patient. Even the children he had seen playing in the trees had appeared well behaved. Their laughter and play had seemed joyful, but without the feeling of potential chaos that there usually was around most children. The feeling that they would act up the minute you looked away, just wasn't there. It was as if there was a calm blanket across the planet's people.

As there was over the two Pelydrians in their discussion circle. Drehle was one of the Ruling Circle, and had appeared very pleased at their visit. Beside him, sat on the grass, was a younger Pelydrian called Shklyar, who was, from what Richard understood, a political advisor. Her hair shimmered dark violet in the sunshine as she nodded along with Drehle's words. Richard tried not to stare at them both too intently – they were purple people! Even their eyelashes were purple, and their eyes varied shades of violet.

"It is agreed among our people that the rediscovery of the Ancestral city of Atlantis is most fortuitous," Drehle continued as Richard lifted his hand to his collar, the heat really building up quite uncomfortably under his jacket and shirt. "We are delighted as a people that the city is once more alive and that your people care for its walls and help assist those under conflict still from the Wraith."

"We're happy to help," Major Sheppard replied from beside Richard.

"We would welcome trade with your people," Drehle continued with a soft wide smile.

"As would we," Richard replied.

"In terms of items for trade," Drehle added with a delicate frown, "I would need to speak with the other regional circles, but it is likely that we can share some medicinal knowledge, and experience and history of the Ancestors, which we understand your people are most interested."

"Yes, we would welcome such sharing of information," Richard replied, feeling like he had somehow missed the start of this meeting. In every negotiation he had been a part of before, there was always the initial small talk first and then the subtle discovering of terms through careful verbal manoeuvring. Here, the Pelydrians had skipped straight to the heart of the matter, seeming happy to trade without any more discussion necessary."

"We also grow some fresh fruits that you may be interested in trading for, some of which have medicinal use. We also frequently trade in our skills of discussion and negotiation, working as facilitators across the Alliance."

"We understand that you work frequently with those chased from their planets by the Wraith?" Shkylar asked, the first time she had spoken since they had sat down in the circle.

Richard met her purple gaze and it was a strange, though friendly, gaze, as if she was studying him intently in a way he couldn't understand.

He cleared his throat as he reached up to his collar again. "Yes, unfortunately the Wraith have been making a concerted attack of late on a large number of worlds."

"I grieves us that so many are still unprotected from the Wraith, but it pleases us that your people can help so many," she replied with a smile to him and Major Sheppard.

"We do the best we can," Sheppard replied.

"Any difference, even tiny, affects many, Representative Sheppard," Shkylar responded. "Your good work has not gone unnoticed in the Alliance, and our world looks forward to trading with your people and forging friendship."

Richard smiled at that. "As do we," he repeated the sentiment. This was going really very well, if he could just maybe take off his jacket. He was feeling quite hot now. He should have worn his more lightweight suit.

"We would also value knowledge from the far side of the galaxy, and to hear of your own people, your planet and culture," Drehle added. "Some of our people used to travel extensively in the Portal system in previous generations, but since the formation of the Alliance, our people are too easily identifiable to the Wraith," he joked as he lifted his arms to indicate his purple skin.

Richard wasn't sure if he should laugh, so he went with a smile and nod. He wasn't sure what he could share in terms of information on the planets beyond the Alliance, but he had clear established lines around what he could share about Earth.

Next to him, sat apparently comfortably on a stool in the sunshine, Major Sheppard angled his head within Richard's view, drawing his attention.

"Representative Sitayi," the Major uttered as he nodded to the left.

Richard looked round to see two Pelydrians striding across the grass towards their discussion circle. He recognised the older woman as indeed that of the Representative to Athos. The familiar face was very welcoming.

He rose to his feet, along with the Major, as Sitayi approached. She was smiling widely.

"Major Sheppard," she called as she reached the edge of the circle and, with apparent ritualistic purpose, stepped carefully over the encircling stones. "It is very good to greet you to our world," she welcomed as she extended her right hand, having recalled handshaking.

Major Sheppard moved forward and took her hand in a strong shake, a very honest smile on his face. "John, please," he said, surprising Richard. "We're very happy to be here."

"And Mr Woolsey," she said as she turned to Richard and extended her hand to him.

He shook her hand carefully, unsure how mature a woman she was, but her grip was surprisingly strong. "It is good to see you again, Representative Sitayi."

"I am pleased to see you too," she replied, but Richard felt that most of the comment was directed towards John.

"Mr Woolsey has expressed great interest in trading between our peoples," Drehle reported to Sitayi as everyone returned to their seats. The new Pelydrian male who had arrived with Sitayi appeared into view with a chair for Sitayi. Richard glanced around, wondering where the man had found the new extra chair in the middle of the parkland.

"I had no doubt that he would," Sitayi replied as she sat down. "Though Mr Woolsey, it is very warm today, feel free to remove your jacket."

Richard paused, surprised, but deeply grateful. "If you don't mind," he replied as he quickly set about removing his jacket.

"I like the fabric around your neck," Shkylar noted indicating his tie. "Does it reflect your rank or clan?"

Richard didn't miss Major Sheppard's amused smile at the question. "Ah, no, not as such, but they are traditionally worn by certain types of workers on our world."

He took the excuse to loosen the tie and pull it free, thereby allowing more air around his neck. "There are some traders on Athos who we have shared the designs with already," he said as he handed across the strip of fabric.

Shkylar fingered the tie with deep interest, "It is a very enjoyable fabric," she noted as she passed it to Drehle who appeared as curious. Maybe there wasn't anything like silk in Pegasus, or at least in the Alliance.

Richard sought to find something to ask in return. "I notice that your people all wear small charms from your clothing," he asked, "do they denote rank or your clan?"

"They indicate that and more," Drehle replied as he passed the tie to Sitayi. "These show the region I was birthed and that of my parents," he said as he lifted several charms. "These my travels, and these my work."

"How do your people show such information about yourselves?" Sitayi asked as she passed the tie back to Richard.

He took it and laid it across his jacket on the grass beside his chair. He felt so much more comfortable in this heat without either of them, and the Pelydrians appeared to be very relaxed types. This really was a far more informal meeting than he had ever been part of before.

"I suppose that we indicate such information through our choice of clothing, our language, and accents," he considered.

"We too have regional differences in dialect and accent, but our people have one unified language," Drehle replied brightly. "Many of our population do not travel through the Portals though, so are not all fluent in understanding other languages from outside our world."

"Do you both come from the same region on your world?" Sitayi asked.

"Not the same area so much, but we work for the same organisation," the Major replied carefully.

"Your military?" Sitayi asked.

"Um, no, well, I work for the military, but the expedition to Atlantis is overseen by a group selected from various countries on our world," Sheppard stumbled through.

"Our ruling system works similarly," Sitayi replied with a smile. "Each region is represented and heard in all matters."

Richard saw the Major's glance towards him. He no doubt wished the IOA was run differently than its current state. Some days Richard wished it was too.

"When you say 'regions'?" Sheppard deflected quickly.

"Our planet is divided up almost equally between the massive mountain ranges across the upper part of the planet, the flat plains spread below, and the wide coastal fertile lands set around the small seas. Often it can be said that a person's attitude and skills can depend on where in these three areas they are from." Drehle and Shklyar smiled, as if it was a joke.

"And where are you from?" Sheppard asked her, working his newly forming polite conversational skills that Richard had been trying to install in him.

Sitayi smiled widely at his question. She seemed particularly pleased to see the Major. If she had been a younger woman, Richard would have been suspicious that she was attracted to Sheppard, but with her years, it seemed almost as if she was oddly proud of him.

"I am from the plains," she replied, "but my father was from the clans of the mountain regions. I would be happy to tell you of the ways of our people, as we all would. Perhaps you might even enjoy taking a walk with us? There is a most wondrous view of the local plains and the lower mountains in the distance from the ridge over the lake."

"Sounds nice," the Major agreed.

Drehle leant forward. "I would hope as well that you might enjoy a feast with us tonight, we have already called for the rest of the Ruling Circle currently away to return to meet you. They should be here by nightfall. We would welcome you to stay here for the night if you wish. We have sleeping cabins available for visitors, and tomorrow the regular Portal market will be full of traders. We would be happy to introduce you to some of our allies and friends who shall be visiting for the event."

Richard felt a rush of success. "We would be honoured," he replied.

"We'll have to check in with Atlantis first," Major Sheppard added with a pointed look his way, "but it should be fine."

"Wonderful," Sitayi replied. "Then we can take our walk and I can show you some of our world."

This was going so well. Another successful negotiation seemingly already under his belt, Richard was feeling more relaxed. The IOA would be very pleased.

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TBC


	11. Elkaska

**Note:** Sorry there was no new chapter last night – as it is I've only just gotten this one checked through. It's been a long and tiring couple of days at work. I am sorry I have not had time to reply to reviews over the last couple of days, but I've read them all and will reply asap. Thank you guys. Wedj x

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**INTERLUDE 11 - Elkaska**

The sun had set several hours ago, and he knew he needed to leave Pelydr soon if he was to get to the first marketing station in time to set up his stall. However, he had really enjoyed his day on Pelydr and was loathe to leave.

He had spent the morning sat out in the rising sun with Sitayi, updating her on tales from Tjaru – of Zabetha's fussing over Rhakshar, Charin's patient acceptance of her cousin's new partner, the exciting finals of the Bantos Championship, and how he had won the first trading contract for lavender petal tea out of Lantana, one of the newest systems now included in the Alliance.

He always enjoyed Sitayi' company, relaxing and friendly, and she felt something like a mix of friend, family, and mentor all in one. He still vividly recalled meeting her for the first time when he had been young, full of bursting frustrated energy with no real avenue down which to focus it all.

Tagan, his older sister, had already begun spending time in the neighbouring camp, ostensibly to assist in bantos rod manufacture from the local forest, but as it had turned out, she had been far more interested in Torren whose family had always been experts in bantos. Elkaska had been sent along with her many times, having begun to get under their mother's feet to the point of annoyance, for he had repeatedly disrupted her manufacture of ointments and soaps with his 'suggestions' as to how to improve the grinding and mixing of the ingredients. Without much skill of his own in actually helping her, he had only hindered Mother's work for their camp. So, he had been sent off to accompany his sister to her work in the next camp, a 'babysitting' duty for which Tagan had not overly appreciated. He had stomped his way grumpily behind her through the trees to the other camp most days that summer, feeling unappreciated and bored despite his young years.

Then one day, in the other camp, when he had been trailing behind Tagan as she had carried felled branches for the bantos rods from the forest, he had spied Charin stood with a purple-skinned woman, his first sight of Sitayi. Charin had been kind to him previously, having offered him some tuttle root soup one evening when he had been ordered away by Tagan, who had wanted to sit alone with Torren. He hadn't understood why back then, he had only muttered and stomped away into the edge of the trees, upset, bored and grumpy. Charin had been sat outside her tent nearby, eating her soup in the late afternoon light, and had witnessed his sulking frustration. She had called him over and asked him if he would carry in some logs for her and in return he could help himself to some soup. He had thought he was being helpful to an older woman by carrying in the logs, but he had realised years later that Charin had been more than capable at that stage. She had taken pity his young unhappy self.

So in seeing her again that day, stood with a woman with deep purple skin, he had abandoned his whinging and wandered over.

"This young man has been kind enough to help me collect logs inside for the coming winter," Charin had introduced him to Sitayi.

"That is very kind of you...?" Sitayi had asked, making him feel mature and appreciated.

"Elkaska," he had replied, puffing out his chest.

"I hope you were paid well for your trouble," she had joked, but he had frowned up at her.

"I would not charge Charin anything, and she gave me some tuttle root soup in return," he had replied seriously. "And everyone knows Charin makes the best tuttle root soup in the entire forest camps."

The women had laughed.

"Thank you, young Elkaska," Charin had replied. "I am very pleased to hear that."

"My mother makes the best ointments," he had added quickly. "Maybe I could bring you some if you would make me some more tuttle root soup?"

He remembered they had looked surprised and amused, but also interested, so he had forged on. "I think that with some changes to how we prepare the ingredients, she might be able to make enough for the other camps," he had added, trying to sound adult, and knowing Charin to be very wise, he had hoped she would actually be interested in his ideas.

"It sounds as if that is a good trade, Elkaska," Charin replied.

He had frowned at the word. Trade was for important things, like grain and tava beans. "You can't trade for soup," he had replied, honestly confused.

"You can trade for anything," Sitayi had told him. "The bantos rods your sister is helping prepare, what do you think they would be traded for?"

He had looked away to where Tagan had been sat with Torren. "Maybe for cloth or grain," he had guessed.

"And what if we had all the cloth and grain we need?" Sitayi had asked softly. "What else do you think the camp might use?"

He had pondered that. Trade was such an important vital role that he had not thought on it before. He remembered looking round the camp to try and work out what they were lacking, feeling the women had been testing him so he knew it was important to come up with a smart answer.

"Maybe, if my camp needed cloth, then you could trade it with us for some of the ointments?" He had suggested.

The two women had smiled at him. "You are a very smart young man," Charin had told him and his chest had puffed up big again.

"And perhaps then, if Mother is short of ingredients," he added, "then your camp could trade for them first?"

"I see a bright future ahead for you, young Elkaska," Sitayi had said, but he had simply smiled and turned to Charin.

"Do you have any tuttle root soup tonight?" He had asked, unaware of how significant that moment in his life would turn out to be, and how pointed and insightful Sitayi's words had been.

That night he had bothered his mother for hours suggesting to her his ideas for trading her ointments. For some reason though, she had started to listen to him. The next day, he had wandered around his home camp, talking to everyone as he tried to understand what the camp needed that could be traded for with his mother's ointments and soaps. Within days, he had approached Halling's father in Charin's camp, an accomplished carpenter, to trade some of Mother's best soaps for a new work table that would provide her far more space for her ingredients. It had been his first trade.

He had made his first profits within a year, setting out with his goods to camps further afield, this time dragging Tagan on his errand for a change. Mother had insisted she accompany him on the journeys, and, within a few trips, Torren had started to join them as well. Elkaska hadn't liked Torren's company back then, but he had appreciated the older boy's assistance in moving the growing number of boxes of trading goods. Within a few of years, he had begun accompanying Athosian traders off world, and had fast discovered that anything could be traded, even mud and sawdust, for everything had value to someone.

Having found and followed his natural gift, he had developed his skills further in learning how to speak to different people, to read their body language, and anticipate their trading needs before they even knew them themselves. He had always made a profit since that first year, but he had also soon discovered another side to being a successful trader. He had begun to hear stories of growing resistance against the Wraith among the portal worlds, and that the fledgling Elite force had begun to win significantly gains against them. He had seen the value in that immediately and being a young adult with strong ideals and determination, he had begun to work to pass information and trade for the components necessary to make weapons for the resistance. As the Alliance had begun to form, slowly at first, he had been there, and he had helped arm the first fledging versions of the Alliance Military. He in turn had learnt a lot from the Military, training with them so he could improve on his basic ability to defend himself, which was vital when working alone much of the time.

By the time Teyla had been born to Tagan and Torren, and the Alliance had been growing fast, and he had been spending most of his time away from Athos, travelling constantly between worlds, often spreading secret messages between the Alliance governments along with his spices, furniture and cloth. He had seen much in those years, including things he wished he could take back from his soul, but it had helped forge who he was, and he had played an important role in some significant events in the early days of freedom from the Wraith.

He was proud of all he had managed to do, but he would never forgive himself for not having been on Athos during its last culling by the Wraith.

The worst day of his life had been the one when he had received a short message from Torren asking him to return home as soon as possible. It had already taken several days for the message, and news of the culling on Athos, to reach Elkaska. So, he had immediately stepped through a Portal back to Athos, and had stepped into his world still smoking and soaked with tears.

He had run full pelt along road and tracks to reach Torren and Tagan's camp, past so many fresh and filling graves of those the Wraith had fed up. Far more had been swept up by the culling beams, their lives ended far from home and their loved ones.

Torren and Tagan's camp had been hit heavily, still being rebuilt as he had arrived, and consequently it had taken him time to find the new location of their tent within the others. However, it had been in the lowered eyes of the rest of the camp that had told him enough to know that bad news would indeed greet him.

He had known that obviously Torren was well, for he had sent the message, but what of the girls?

He had burst into the tent finally, to find both girls by the fire, little Zabetha asleep in her cot and young Teyla crushing flowers into a bowl. Torren had risen from the chair close by, one side of his face bruised and battered.

His eyes had said enough.

Elkaska had stood frozen, tears flowing down his face. His sister.

Torren had walked up to him, his own eyes brimming with tears, and they had embraced. It had been the first time Elkaska had embraced his brother by marriage, and he had held him tightly, feeling the man's own anguish. Torren had loved Tagan so much. Still now, so many years later, Elkaska could still see that same grief and pain in Torren's eyes. He had never, and said he never would, heal from that loss.

From that day, Elkaska had reined in his secret military work and had focused on his more standard trading, thereby spending more time on Athos, helping to support Torren as he brought up the girls alone. As grief-stricken as Torren had been, he had not been broken. In fact it had spurred him on. He had already been respected as a strong leader among the local camps and had sat in on local judgements up in Tjaru, and so he worked hard to sponsor himself to be elected as the new Leader of the Athosian worlds. Torren's election had been the best thing that had happened to Athos, and Elkaska was proud of him, and knew his sister would be too in the land of the Ancestors.

Elkaska himself felt he honoured Tagan by helping raise her daughters. As Teyla had grown, he had seen some of his own childhood restlessness in her, and so he had taken her with him on some of his trading, hoping that perhaps she might follow in his footsteps. However, it had been a somewhat overly optimistic dream, for her seeker skills and strong agility had meant only one career would be likely. She had always asked questions about the Elite, who were the rising figureheads of freedom and success that had been spurring the Alliance onward, growing larger and stronger with each day. Any time he traded off world without her by his side, she would ask him if he had seen an Elite warrior during his travels. It had pained him to see her fascination, but he had also loved to see the bright shining smile of hers when he had told her of his occasional sightings of Elite in the marketing halls, and in the first marketing space stations that were being constructed at that time.

He had known the Elite had requested her to join them for training, but Torren had held them back from outwardly taking her, as they were known to do on some worlds. It was Torren's political station alone that had given him that power, but no power had been able to quell the passionate drive and determination in Teyla herself. In the end, as Elkaska had regretfully predicted, it had been Teyla herself who had convinced Torren to let her join the Elite. She had still been relatively young on the day when she had packed up a small bag of bare essentials from her room and set off to the Elite. Elkaska had made sure to be there that day, talking as upbeat as he could, positive and supportive, whilst Torren's heart had clearly been breaking apart. Torren had likely felt he was going to lose his eldest daughter just as he had his wife – to the hands of the Wraith. Watching such a young child, all confident and passionate as she was, leave her home to go join a military group who willingly walked into Wraith Hives had been deeply painful. Life expectancy of Elite was short, especially back then.

However, Elkaska had been determined to keep watch over her still. Having his contacts in the military, and some friends in the Elite, he had been able to visit her during his trading missions for them. Through him he was able to keep her in contact with Torren and Zabetha, and fortunately that bond had lasted. Elite were not usually keen or encouraged to keep ties with their family, and even though Teyla had become the embodiment of a proud, stoic and near emotionless Elite warrior, it was with her family that she would still soften and smile. In such moments, he could still see that little girl who used to help him set up trading stalls and badger him with questions about his work. And he would always remember that terrible day, when he had sat down with her by the fire, and she had told him she was making flower sachets for her mother's burial. Tagan's body had been one of those left behind by the Wraith. He had not looked at the corpse. He had not wanted to see his sister's withered remains, but he had been there to watch the cloth wrapped body lowered into the Athosian ground. He had put his hand on Torren's shoulder and had held baby Zabetha tightly throughout the ceremony, Teyla standing silent between them, one arm around each of their knees.

The tears were still quick to arrive when thinking of that day, even now, so many years later. He glanced aside to look upon Teyla as she was now - a grown woman, powerful and skilled. In the dying light of Pelydr she reminded him so much of her mother that it hurt.

His afternoon with her had been very enjoyable. They had walked the beautiful paths around the emerald lakes and then through the shops he had hoped to see. He was so pleased that she, a famous and dangerous warrior, would choose to take time to spend an afternoon with her uncle. When he had told her as such, she had smiled widely and tucked her hand around his arm as they had walked.

"I value our time," she had told him and he had felt his old heart move.

Now though, their day together was at an end. He needed to get to his ship and get moving, and she would turn in to sleep and spend tomorrow with Sitayi.

"Will you be returning to battle soon?" He asked her as they walked through the darkened trees back towards the parkland where they had left Sitayi many hours ago.

"I am not sure," she replied. "I suspect there might be a brief respite. The system was hard won, but worth it. Some consolidation will be necessary, but there is activity in other territories that must be addressed."

"I have heard as much," he commented, and she angled her head in silent question. "That the Wraith are trying to clear worlds ahead of your advance."

"Yes, stealing what we would contain under our protection. It seems they hope to take away most advantages from us in hopes to slow our advance."

"I have heard though," he added, "that Atlantis has been reaching some of those worlds ahead of the Wraith." He traded through the portals far out from the Alliance border, even where it had advanced to lately, and he acquired a huge amount of gossip over trading tables which not even the Elite's contacts would be privy to.

Teyla looked at him with interest. "I had read a report that mentioned encountering them, but I had not realised there were more worlds they had assisted."

"Some worlds have taken in refugees saved by Atlantis, but it seems that there are a great many," he reported.

She frowned thoughtfully. They had kept conversation away from battle and politics today, but he had planned to convey this information to her before he left.

Ahead, he became aware of a great deal of noise through the trees. In the distance, he saw lamp lights through the trees and could make out many soft Pelydr voices in the breeze. "It looks like there is a festival or such," he commented.

"I had not heard of there being one," Teyla reflected, but her interest sounded distant. He suspected he had turned her mind back to work too soon.

"Thank you for your opinion on the gift today," he told her as they turned left, joining a path that took them out of the trees into the moonlight. It led away from the mass of voices of the festival and would take them to where the sleeping cabins were spread out around the parkland. He would see her to her cabin door before he had to leave, and then he would be able to honestly tell Torren that his eldest daughter was resting between her battles.

"I think it is a very beautiful bed and Zabetha and Rhakshar will love it," she replied with the return of her smile.

"Good," he said happily. "I just wanted to be sure that it was not too...intimate a gift."

She laughed lightly. "A newly married couple should have a new bed. I am surprised that Father did not order one for their new adjoining quarters in the family buildings."

"Zabetha likes her old bed," Elkaska reported, "But I could tell from Rhakshar's subtle comments that he finds the bed a little small. Especially for the activities they will be enjoying as newlyweds," he added with a grin.

"Uncle," Teyla replied with a reprimanding glare, but she was smiling as she elbowed his side.

"I want her to be happy," Elkaska replied. "And most women enjoy the company of handsome men, especially those from alien worlds." He said pointedly, keeping his head focused forward with an innocent expression, but he watched her out the corner of his eyes.

She glared at him again as he predicted, having correctly heard his insinuation, and he smiled.

"If you find yourself are in need of a new bed, you now know who to purchase it from, that carpenter's work was exceptional," he added.

She shoved at his arm and he chuckled as he stumbled aside for show. "Be careful of an old man, you are a powerful Elite warrior after all."

"You are far from old, Uncle," she stated. "So do not play the part yet. Perhaps you are the one who needs a new bed - I worry about you travelling alone."

He was very surprised by her admission, but also touched by her concern. "You need not worry over me, Teyla. I love my work and am satisfied enough with my life."

He felt the weight of her gaze, but did not look round at her. "Perhaps there is a beautiful woman on Atlantis I could meet," he considered out loud, and he smiled at her pointed silence. "But, to return to our main subject," he continued, "Thank you for your opinion on my gift."

"I was happy to help. Had you not given them a wedding gift previously at their wedding?" She asked as the path rose slightly, leading faintly up an incline, and he could now taste the moisture in the air, carried up off the lake. The noise of the festival behind them was growing distant now, but it was curious because he had not heard so many Pelydrians in one place in a long time. It was usually only for major festivals that so many gathered here. and he was certain Sitayi would have mentioned such an event to him.

"I did, but only a small one, knowing this gift would be the main one," he replied. "I told them I needed time to get the gift transported to them."

"The carpenter seemed happy to deliver it directly himself," Teyla noted.

"I believe it was your presence, and you naming me your uncle, that did that," he replied. "I should perhaps take you on trades once more, as we did when you were young."

She smiled widely into the bright glowing moonlight, the second largest moon over Pelydr beginning to rise from the horizon.

"They will return to Athos to find their new gift in place."

"Yes," he replied. "I will trust Torren to ensure the bed is installed properly, because I will not be able to return to Tjaru so soon."

"You said it was being delivered in three day's time?" She asked and he nodded. "If I am still around the core worlds, I will make sure to be in Tjaru, then I can oversee the installation and it will not disturb father from his duties."

Elkaska smiled. "I am sure he would be pleased to see you as well, especially as he is currently by himself in the family buildings."

"Is he?" She asked. "Where is Charin? I thought she visits him most days."

"She is on her vacation with her cousin."

"Oh," Teyla replied softly and he suspected she had not considered before now how Torren might fare when alone. Of course the Governing Buildings were usually packed with people, but there would be no one in the family areas. Elkaska suspected it was during such times that Torren missed Tagan the most.

The path had risen enough now that the sleeping cabins came into view, set along the left side of the path at the edge of the tree line, and in the distance the narrow lake came into view. The rising moons cast bold glowing light across its water. The low rise, with its unusual indentation forming the lake was most likely created by a long extinct volcano, which time had softened to meld in with the sweeping low rises of the plains regions. Beyond the far ridge of the lake, the greatest of Pelydr's plains stretched out as far as the eye could see.

"I shall see if I can visit longer than one afternoon with Father," Teyla said quietly. "Perhaps a few days, if time allows before my next mission."

"I am sure he will appreciate your visit, however long it may be, as he always loves seeing you," he told her.

He knew that Torren was forever worried for Teyla's safety. That she had lived as long as she had as an Elite was a testimony to her warrior skills. It seemed that Elite were surviving longer now than the Elite had done in his younger days, but they still died in shockingly faster numbers than was comfortable. He had far too accurate a knowledge as to the situations Teyla would be throwing herself into, but he tried never to communicate that informed fear of his own to Torren. He worried for Teyla too, but unlike Torren, he did understand a little deeper the true level of her skill. He had seen her in training and once in a battle situation against Wraith. He was not one to utter prayers for himself, but for Teyla's safety, he prayed everyday to the Ancestors, asking them to watch over her.

He doubted he would be able to survive another devastating message from Torren.

Teyla slowed beside him and he pulled his thoughts back to the present.

"This is my cabin," she announced and he looked past her to the small building. There was a small candle lit inside the side window overlooking the path, which the Pelydrians did for all occupied cabins. The sleeping cabins were single room buildings made simply out of planks of wood, with one high window in the side wall and another wider window at the narrow front end, where the door opened onto a small railed deck. Teyla moved off the path, towards the few steps that led up to the deck and he followed slowly.

"Please give my good wishes to Torren when you see him," he asked her. "And let me know when the bed is in place, so I can tell Zabetha and Rhakshar that their gift is ready for them."

"I will," she promised as she reached the steps and turned to him. "I have enjoyed today, Uncle, thank you."

He smiled at her thanks. "I hope to see you again soon. Be careful in battle," he added quietly as they set their hands on each other's shoulders. He leant forward and rested his forehead against hers - Tagan's eldest daughter, now a grown woman, strong and successful. Where had the years gone?

"Tagan would be so proud of you," he told her quietly as he pulled back.

She looked up at him with some surprise, but she smiled. "As she would be of you."

He squeezed her shoulders and released them. "Remind me to tell you about her days of making bantos rods next time we meet." He had not recounted those early days with them before.

"Father has told me she used to help him make them," she replied with that brightness in her eyes that always appeared when she heard stories of her parents in their youth.

"I have some stories he will not have told you, how he was oblivious at first to her interest. And, how she knocked him out once with an overly large branch that got away from her."

Teyla laughed. "Truly?"

"I did not think he would have told you that one. He had to be carried back to his tent," Elkaska said, chuckling himself. "I will share it with you and Zabetha the next time we are all together," he promised.

"I look forward to it," she replied.

"Good," he stated. His moment of departure had arrived. He hated these moments of leaving her, knowing that it might be the last time he saw her. That he would one day receive news of her loss, just as he had done about Tagan. His foolish old heart felt that perhaps if he stayed around her longer that painful day might never arrive. It would though, he knew it, for no Elite lived into old age. She would die before her natural time, but then, it was because of her and other Elite that so many people now could live their lives fully without it being unnaturally ended in a culling. It was a gain that he was grateful for, respectful and appreciative, but it also twisted his heart. What if this was the last time he would see her?

He made himself step back from her, using his old fighting trader's skills to will back the pain, to focus on her alive and well in the moonlight. Her destiny was out of his hands, but he would think of her every day, and whisper out is prayers to the Ancestors for her.

"I will take my leave then, Honoured Elite," he said with forced joviality. "I will be hard pushed to make the first marketing stall if I do not leave now." In truth, he was already going to be late for sure, but it had been worth it to stay a little longer with his niece.

"It was good seeing you, Uncle," she repeated as he made himself turn away from her.

"Great victory to you," he told her as he returned to the path.

She nodded formally and began to ascend the steps to her sleeping cabin.

"And if you need a new bed, let me know," he called out with a smile over his shoulder as he strode away.

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TBC


	12. John

**Part**: 12/13

**Note:** Well, you knew I had to get to John's pov eventually, and here it is as the penultimate chapter, and I hope to post the last chapter tomorrow. Thanks to everyone reading for having stuck with this rather unusual fic.

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**INTERLUDE 12 - John**

The two moons hung bright in the sky of Pelydr, casting blue moonlight in long wide stripes across the parkland.

He would have thought he would be used to looking up at alien skies by now, but there was something still stunningly fascinating about looking up at such a different sky to back home. There being two moons was fascinating enough, but that they were so obviously closer to the planet than Earth's moon, made them so much larger. He had been able to make out details of the closest moon's landscape as he had watched it move slowly across the sky.

He had volunteered for first watch for the night, though truthfully Pelydr hardly seemed a dangerous planet. He was feeling pretty relaxed about the place, though the planet wide open plan thing was weird. The only buildings there were on Pelydr were the simple narrow sleeping cabins for off world guests, of which there were about thirty spread around the local parkland.

As the welcome feast had broken up a couple of hours ago, John had watched in bizarre fascination as the local Pelydrians had begun to set up their beds on the ground throughout the forest. Sitayi had explained to him, between her many introductions to what had felt like an increasingly larger number of Pelydrians who had turned up to the feast, that her people lived outside all year round. If it rained, they simply strung up waterproof sheets between the tree branches to keep the rain off their air mattresses, and if the wind was too strong through the trees, they tied the sheets between tree trunks as a wind break. Otherwise, they were content to feel the air around them, and apparently there weren't any dangerous insects or reptiles on Pelydr to worry about.

It was a nice planet, pleasant and warm, even this late at night, so he guessed sleeping outside most of the time wouldn't be too bad, but it still seemed weird. Where would you keep all your stuff? He had asked Sitayi how they stored personal possessions and kept things safe if they didn't have any buildings, and she had smiled at him with that grandmother like way that implied he had missed a vital point. To explain, she had led him and Woolsey further into the forest where, by the light of the small coloured glass lamps strung from the tree branches, they had been able to make out elaborate shelving units and cabinets set around the largest tree trunks. Sitayi had even shown him where she kept her own things, set in several waist high cabinets built carefully around the wide trunk of a tree. She had shown him the cabinet with her clothes, another with her jewellery and books, and one full of her work notes. He suspected the IOA would have issues with him keeping his top secret reports in a drawer in a forest, but apparently things were very different on Pelydr.

The welcome feast had obviously been out-door as well, set out at the top end of the parkland, and had felt more like a community barbeque. Throughout the evening it had seemed that people from across the whole of Pelydr had turned up to meet 'the people from Atlantis'. John had shaken more hands today than probably in all his life. Sitayi had clearly taken him under her wing, which he had been fine with, though she had seemed intent to introduce him to every single person who had arrived to the feast. She had known them all and had introduced them by name, region they came from, their job, and their interests. It had all gone over his head, but he had started to recognise the various 'departments' the jobs fell into, which were familiar enough, though 'extrasensory research' had sounded interesting. He hadn't had a chance to talk in depth with anyone of them though, there being so many, but that had been fine with him too, because then he didn't have to come up with awkward small talk.

Woolsey had looked in his element, Mata, the Athosian Representative to Pelydr, apparently taken him under her wing. John had caught glimpses of him stood in the centre of groups of Pelydrians, happily answering questions and asking more. The IOA and the SGC were going to be happy with how the meeting went, because they clearly were making plenty of new friends on Pelydr. And the Pelydrians were honestly nice people, a little hippy-ish for John's liking at times, but they were clearly an intelligent and curious people.

They had some interesting technology too. Though they lived in the forest, there were obvious pieces of technology in use. He had recognised kettles, hot plates, and portable stoves set on the shelving units and cabinets around the trees, as well as plenty of the Alliance standard electronic pads. The barbeque food had been cooked in a seriously groovy massive machine that cooked the food in three minutes, though he hadn't been able to find out how it did that. What had been the most interesting though, had been the hover vehicles the Pelydrians had been arriving on to the feast. There had been what had looked like a few mini-bus sized ones, but best of all, some hover bikes, that looked seriously cool. He hadn't got a chance to get too close, due to all the people wanting to shake his hand and ask him what his galaxy was like. He would see if he could get a peek at the bikes tomorrow morning. Sitayi had told him that all the technology ran on clean energy and were mostly reverse engineered from Ancestor/Ancient tech, which was also very cool. She hadn't gone on any further though, and John suspected that technology exchange, which he had already discussed with Torren, would not be allowed by the Alliance. However, he hoped that over time that would change.

By the end of the feast, he had felt exhausted, but once at the sleeping cabins set aside for them, he had known he wasn't going to fall asleep any time soon. So, he had volunteered himself to sit out the front of the five closely set cabins, and keep watch for the first part of the night.

As great as it was to be welcomed to such a friendly planet, he was feeling a tad uncomfortable now all was quiet. Because he couldn't ignore the fact anymore that he was in the Alliance, looking up at alien stars and thinking about _her_.

Or ignore the pathetic fact that he was just desperately hopeful that she would turn up. All through the feast he hadn't been able stop himself from looking off towards the trees all the time, hoping the next person to appear out from between them would be Teyla. That she would just materialise back into his life. He had stupidly found himself thinking up all the possible, and admittedly unlikely, situations that might result in her turning up on Pelydr.

She might even have heard he was there and would want to visit.

Which brought him back to being pathetic.

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her since Zabetha's wedding. The first couple of weeks afterwards, he had kind of enjoyed the residual longing and continuing amazement at what he and Teyla had shared. But, then, reality had finally started to seep in – as great as it had been between them, it wasn't going to happen again. He probably wouldn't ever see her again, and perhaps even if he did it might be from behind the bow of an enemy ship.

Something worryingly close to depression had hit him after those first two weeks. It was like life had shown him the most amazing experience and then ripped it away from him, leaving a bleeding open wound that could never be filled.

And each visit to Athos only opened the wound further. Each movement in the corner of his eye in the Governing Buildings could be her turning up to visit her father, each peal of female laughter could be her in the distance. It was like she was a ghost haunting him, and with that thought had come more worries, frustration, and more recently anger.

He had been stupid to sleep with her. He should have been more professional, should have kept things just friendly.

Only he had wanted to share just one kiss, to complete that pulling flirtatious electricity that had been between them ever since they had met. He had wanted to taste her, just once, to feel what such attraction could really feel like.

Turned out it had felt too good. Far too good, and he hadn't been able to stop at one kiss.

In his own defence, she hadn't been able to stop there either.

He should have turned down her invitation to go to bed though, should have stepped back, reminded them both that they were from two very different worlds, from different peoples who were dealing with each other on a knife's edge as it was. He should have left.

But he hadn't, he had stayed, he had watched her take off her weapons and then her clothes. And he had done the same.

His memory was traitorously vivid with the details of what had followed. He tried not to think about it, all the time, like when he was eating, in meetings, in the shower, in bed. He tried not to be so pathetically obsessed with what had happened.

Throwing himself into his work helped a little, distracting him for most of the time, but being here on an Alliance planet wasn't helping his obssession.

It was even why he was sitting out here on a pretty safe planet on first watch. As if she might appear if he sat out here by the small little campfire the Pelydrians had been happy for them to have. He nudged one of the 'fire stones' back into place around the fire – it seemed the Pelydrians needed stone circles around everything, but it was trusting enough that they were happy for a campfire so close to a forest full of sleeping locals.

Unlike Teyla who was probably out there killing Wraith right now, slicing and dicing with her super sharp swords.

God, he hoped she was okay. That she was still alive out there, even if he never saw her again.

He never should have kissed her though.

But he had, yet again jumping in without thinking first. When was he going to learn?! At least this time, no one had been hurt. No one, but him. Just his heart.

He sighed at himself, rolling his eyes up to the alien sky. He just didn't learn. Pigeons learnt faster than him.

He picked up the sturdy stick leant against his knee, and prodded the campfire, moving logs that didn't need to be adjusted, but the frustrated action helped.

She probably hadn't thought twice about him since. It had probably just been a forbidden roll in the hay for an Elite.

She had more important things to think about than him.

He jabbed the stick into the embers, tracing random frustrated shapes in the ashes.

She probably already had a new guy.

He jabbed harder into the ashes and the stick gave way in his hand, splintering into several pieces.

"Damn it," he muttered quietly in the dark silent parkland. He tossed the broken stick into the fire, which at least was still useful when it was broken.

He sat back in his chair and looked back up to the moons overhead, the closest of which had noticeably moved further across the sky while he had been taking out his frustrations on the fire.

Soft sounds to the left drew his attention instantly and he looked round, knowing it would probably be a Pelydrian walking along one of the paths or Sergeant Olafur Arnarsson returning. He _knew_ it wouldn't be her, but his heart still traitorously lifted hopefully.

He tried not to be disappointed as the familiar shape of the Sergeant appeared along the path.

The Sergeant had been gone over an hour, walking a wide perimeter through the forest and getting a feel for the area. John could tell instantly from the man's body language that he was at ease; in fact he looked like he was out on a Sunday stroll.

"Major," Olafur greeted as he neared.

"Sergeant," John replied. "Find anything interesting?"

"Nothing major, Major," Olafur joked, his blonde features growing clearer as he approached the light of the fire.

John gave him a pained smile in return. "What counts as minor?" he asked, though could already tell it was nothing to worry about. He handed over the flask of coffee he had made earlier over the fire.

"There's a wide path or road about a click through the forest," Olafur reported as he opened the flask with a grateful smile and sat down on the spare chair by the fire. "I followed it for awhile and then into the forest on the other side, up towards the Gate, where there weren't sleeping locals. Only I accidently interrupted a young Pelydrian couple enjoying some 'quiet time' together."

"Oops," John grinned. "Hope you apologised."

"I wished them a good evening and just carried on through the trees," Olafur replied, his Nordic accent more obvious when he spoke quietly.

"Guess you've got to sneak off for private time on Pelydr," John considered.

"It seems so," Olafur chuckled before he took a good sip of coffee. "There's got to be an area of the forest the kids go, even the adults."

"There's certainly plenty of Pelydrian kids around," John noted.

"Maybe they are more relaxed about those kinds of things here," Olafur suggested. "Everything seems very relaxing here," he added as he looked up to the sky with a contented sigh.

John smiled at him. Olafur was known to find the lack of vegetation and any natural landscape rather frustrating in working in Atlantis. "Feel better for your scout?"

Olafur smiled. "Yes. Another minor event up by the Gate might be of interest; I walked into a Pelydrian setting up a stall for the market tomorrow. He makes repairs to those hover bikes."

John sat up straight. "Oh?"

"Had a long chat with him," Olafur reported before he gulped down the last of his coffee. "He let me have a look at the engine. I recognised a few things, but most of it looks more Dr McKay's area." Olafur had trained as an engineer in the British Army and knew more than most about anything combustible, but John guessed that didn't apply to alien hover technology. "There'll be a track near his stall tomorrow, where they test the bikes, and he said we could have a go."

John grinned. "Yes."

"Thought you might like that, Major," Olafur grinned as he passed back the flask.

"You're on my Christmas card list, Sergeant," John joked.

Olafur smiled, but his attention was once again focused upwards, no doubt feeling the same sense of wonder John had been feeling on staring up at the twin moons overhead. Well, except for when John had been obsessing about Teyla.

He had gone almost a few minutes there without thinking about her.

He looked away from the beautiful, and annoyingly romantic, image of alien moons and stars.

Now Olafur was back, he could turn in, but though tired, he knew he still wouldn't fall asleep anytime soon. He'd been living like this too long now – tired from overwork, but too edgy and distracted to fall asleep quickly. Insomnia had become too familiar a friend of late.

"You walk round down to the lake?" John asked, hopeful the answer would be negative.

"No, I did the forest this side and round past where we had the feast and back down here," Olafur confirmed.

John nodded, already pulling his vest closed around him, zipping it up as he stood up. "Think I'll go check that other side - head up and round the other side of the park."

"Watch out for necking teenagers," Olafur warned.

John smiled as he moved away, feeling faintly strange without the usual P90 strapped to his front.

"I'll check in every half hour," he called back as he headed away up the path down which the Sergeant had arrived. He estimated, from their walk down to the lake earlier with Sitayi, that it would take him a good hour plus to walk the route – should wear him out enough to help him sleep.

A perimeter check wasn't really needed here, but, as it had been for Olafur, it was a way to learn a little more of the land and get a feel for Pelydr. Sitayi had made it clear to them that they were free to move around the area as much as they wished, her people clearly very trusting types. John guessed the crime level was pretty low here, if not non-existent. He wondered what made them trust John and Woolsey's team so completely. They were strangers, literally from far far away, and you'd think they would be a bit more cautious. It was almost as if they knew without doubt that Atlantis was no threat to them. He wondered how they could know that, not that he was complaining.

He followed the path up the parkland, passing two other sleeping cabins that stood dark, meeting a tree line, into which he could see the outline of sleeping Pelydrians spread out through the forest. He made sure to walk as quietly as possible, moving off the path to the grass to be even quieter.

At the top of the parkland, he came across three mature Pelydrian women sitting on a bench, watching the moons overhead. They were talking quietly and apparently kitting a blanket between them, the material lying over their laps. They all turned to look at him with smiles as he passed close by them.

"Good eve to you, Major Sheppard," the middle woman greeted him. He faintly remembered meeting her at the feast, so he nodded and smiled.

"Good eve, Ladies," he said as he crossed the lawn in front of their bench.

All three of the women smiled at him again, and he noticed how their unusual skin and eye colour allowed them to meld very easily into the shadows.

"Are you enjoying Pelydr?" The woman on the far end asked, the knitting needles in her hands tapping together with amazing speed even though her attention was fully directed on him.

"I am, it's a great place," he replied, a little weakly, hoping he wasn't going to be held up to talk knitting, he just wanted to walk.

"Well, enjoy your walk," the other third lady said with a soft motherly smile.

"I will," he replied, surprised, "Thank you. Enjoy your evening," he added as he moved on, and they all smiled again.

He headed away, walking through deep shadows cast by the tall trees and out into the bright light of the moons again. As he did, he faintly heard the three women talking over the tapping of their needles.

"He does seem a lovely man," one woman said.

"My daughter took quite a fancy to him," another replied.

He hurried on a little faster.

There were more locals awake still at this end of the park, and he noticed a couple were stacking boxes under tables, which were presumably for the market tomorrow. Everyone he passed by smiled and nodded, and no one questioned why he was moving around unattended on their planet. They were all so friendly and trusting. It was getting a little weird actually.

He walked through the area they had had the welcome feast, which was almost entirely empty now, except for a few of the small lamps still shining above the super barbeque machine. He trod through the empty space, the feeling of silent peace falling over him again. Ahead the trees thickened, where he knew many more of the locals, including Sitayi, would be sleeping, so he turned to the right, following the edge of the tree line, which should take him down and around the far side of the parkland.

The walk was helping him feel better, the edginess easing away from his nerves. There were no niggling sounds of small animals moving around in the trees, no twigs breaking under some unknown foot in the forest, the whole place felt like the blanket of sleep was soothing everything. As he followed the tree line, he could see the shapes of the sleeping Pelydrians, and among them, he saw one woman walking softly back and forwards soothing a baby in her arms. He wondered if the Pelydrians were deep sleepers to have small kids and babies sleeping so close by. Maybe the kids slept well here.

The tree line began to pull away to the left, the sleepers further away in the forest now, so he kept on straight, and soon enough the path they had walked down earlier came into view. The path meandered in a nice smooth route through the moonlight, and he followed it, hands in his pockets and pleased with himself for having correctly predicted the lay of the land.

He looked up at the largest moon hanging almost frighteningly close in the sky above. He could see two deep craters on the underside now, scars of age-old asteroid impacts.

He wondered where Teyla was right now. Would she be on the Sythus, slicing through space headed into battle? Was she on a Wraith base, fighting for her life at this very moment? Was she in her quarters, maybe undressing for bed? The flash of memory stirred in his mind of her loosened hair lying against her check, the tips of the long tresses resting over her bare breasts.

He frowned and looked off into the distance.

He shouldn't have kissed her.

The shimmer of moonlight on water was just visible in the distance now, the occasional glimmer sparkling in the darkness. Like starlight glimmering on Elite weaponry, or across the hull of an Alliance warship. The light of hyperspace glowing cross her face as they had sat beside each other, hidden in the cargo hold of a mining ship headed to Dreamstation.

He sighed loudly to himself and forced his thoughts back on track, onto work related things. Or maybe focusing on where he was walking. To the left of the path, dark empty sleeping cabins stood just in from the forest, and to the right there was nothing but park and the occasional tree. There were no threats here, at least not right now, and try as he might to be ever alert, there just wasn't the need. Woolsey was tucked up tight, likely asleep the minute his tired head had hit his pillow, with a three man team close by, Olafur keeping watch.

So, with nothing immediate to focus on, John turned his mind to what he would put in his report on Pelydr. He worked through the wording silently in his head as he followed the path to the left, looking off into the trees. Moonlight cast down into a glen just inside, lighting up empty forest, but beyond it, he saw the distinctive shape of sleeping locals and the faint light of a lamp hung up high in the tree branches.

He would need to stress the technology side of things on Pelydr, hopefully get some lines of communication started with that engineer tomorrow. Perhaps see if he could find out how they powered their technology in the forest, though he suspected he had seen something like solar panels hanging from a few branches.

He certainly couldn't report anything about the Elite, as Colonel Carter was hoping for – that would have to wait until his next visit to Athos. Which would be in a couple of days. He had a day's leave beforehand, so he planned to get in some sparring with the marines, maybe hit some golf balls, and listen to some tunes. He was rather looking forward to it - any days where he got a break from Colonel Sumner were good. The Colonel had been talking about taking leave on Earth next month, which would involve weeks of a return journey on the Daedalus – John had struggled not to show any hopeful joy at hearing that plan.

The path began to rise slightly now, heading towards the glimmering shine of the lake, and he began to feel more upbeat. The Colonel soon to be away, a day's leave ahead himself, and his visits to Athos, he had plenty to look forward to. And with time, he would be able to stop obsessing about Teyla and get on with his life. The more times he visited Tjaru and she _wasn't_ there, the more normal it would become. One day he would probably stop expecting to see her around each turn of the road.

The path rose to present the full view of the lake up ahead. The dark sleeping cabins were coming to an end soon on the left and then it would be an open stretch to the lake. He would walk around to the left, maybe round the lake where Sitayi had taken them earlier, and then back up around the parkland.

He watched the shimmering surface of the water, and out beyond it, he realised a third moon was now visible. It was far smaller than the other two, or perhaps in a more distant orbit, which was bringing it up into view at an acute angle from the horizon. He watched it with the same deep fascination from before – how cool was his job.

The path had reached the last of the sleeping cabins, and as he walked alongside it, he noticed there was a small candle burning just inside the high side window overlooking the path. They were very basic cabins, more like a hut really, but they had all you needed for a night's stay, and they even had little decks out the front.

As he passed by the cabin, the front decking came into view, facing forward alongside the path, looking out towards the lake. As with the other cabins, there was a high wooden railing around the deck, which here probably gave the best view in the area.

And surprisingly, there was someone stood there.

A woman judging by the curve of her back and shoulder where she stood leant on the railing. The moonlight glowed bright over her features as she looked up and off to the lake.

His breath left him in an instant and he stopped abruptly, frozen still.

Teyla.

Was this real?

He had been thinking of her appearing so often, imaging her appearing out of the shadows – was he seeing things now and this woman just looked rather like her.

He wasn't level with her, so he couldn't see all her face, but the curve of her cheek, her hair braided back from her hairline to fall around her shoulders.

It _was_ her.

He moved forward, stepping softly off the path onto the grass towards the cabin, his eyes locked on her. He thought he saw a faint movement of her head that suggested she had heard someone moving close by, but she didn't look round. Apparently, even Elite were relaxed on Pelydr.

He moved closer, feelings rushing forward – elation, relief, and no small amount of desire.

She was really here. She was alive, here on Pelydr, leant against the railing, looking off into the distance as if at a balcony waiting for someone. He grinned excitedly at that thought and he moved towards her with heavier steps across the grass.

"Juliet, Juliet, wherefore art thou, Juliet?" He said with a grin as he approached.

She snapped her head round towards him, her expression cast in moonlight and shadows, and he thoroughly enjoyed watching the shock play her face.

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TBC


	13. Teyla2

**Note:** And so with the final chapter of this fic, we have come full circle back to Teyla again. Thank you everyone for the reviews and encouragement. Merry Christmas to you all. Wedj x

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**INTERLUDE 13 – Teyla2**

The third moon rose majestically from the horizon far beyond the ridge of the lake, casting its brightest light in its first moments of rising. She had purposefully waited up to watch it, though admittedly there had been no reason to turn to her bed before now as she had been far too awake to sleep.

Thoughts of family had been playing through her mind ever since she had said goodbye to Elkaska. She had thoroughly enjoyed her afternoon with him, feeling especially joyful at his company. Perhaps it was because it had been the first time they had been solely alone together for quite awhile, for with her recovery in Tjaru and Zabetha's wedding, they had been such family orientated times. Now, there had been no other family members around, no Governing Building complex staff just out of earshot, there had just been the two of them, and she had felt able to allow herself to just enjoy his teasing and warm company. On Pelydr she always felt the weight of her public status lessen, for none on this world would judge her differently if she were to smile and laugh. They did not judge Elite all that differently than anyone else, and she found she rather enjoyed that. And Uncle Elkaska always treated her as simply his niece, one who did 'work' as an Elite, but who was still not above teasing and being told the truth about matters. She had always loved that about him.

She always warmly recalled her youthful days of travelling with him to trade, and had learnt a great deal from listening to him work. She had loved to sit by his stall, snuggled up against his pet Umo, and listen to how her talented uncle spoke to people, how he adapted his trading patter to the listener to convince and form trust without any apparent effort on his part. She had believed her family to be one of the most skilled in all the portal worlds - her father a world leader and her uncle the greatest trader in the galaxy. Now older and mature in the true ways of life, she had discovered that her initial biased opinion of her father and uncle had turned out to be very accurate. Though they were not ones to boast or shout the loudest, they were exceptionally skilled and successful at what they did. She thought of her own skills as extensions of them, of family skill passed down to her. She did not know if her mother had been especially skilled at anything, but she would remember to ask Elkaska next time they met up.

She had not missed the sadness in his eyes as he left this evening. It was always difficult for him and Father to say goodbye to her, for they knew the danger of her life, yet she had begun to feel that the partings were growing more difficult for her as well. The recent events on Athos, when she had witnessed those she held most cherished almost killed, and the subsequent making amends with both Zabetha and Rhakshar, she had found herself feeling so much closer to them, in heart if not in spoken words. It worried her as much as it warmed her.

Weakness was the greatest threat to any Elite warrior. Her weakness was her emotional ties to her family, and Iketani had seen that, though Teyla herself had tried to control the depth of those ties. Iketani' attack on the day of the carnival had been partly politically driven, but it had also been a very personal attack on Teyla. The traitor had wished to strike at her in the way that would do the most damage, cause the most pain, and perhaps slow her retaliation. She had been wrong. Teyla had sought out the traitorous snake and had then watched as she paid the ultimate price in her final fight against Massa.

It had been seeing Massa's determined near self sacrifice to avenge his lost love and unborn child that had made her see that there was another side to emotional ties. As in pain as Massa had been, he had been powerful. He had been driven in a way that Iketani could never be, and though the battle between the two had been very close at times, Massa's will had won out. Iketani had paid for what she had done, but her legacy would far outlast her.

Teyla had been determined not to allow the fear the traitor had made her feel to rule her though.

She could not un-love her family, and she did not wish to.

That love had felt especially strong today with Elkaska, perhaps fully felt for the first time, for he was the most wonderful of uncles, so determined to remain a part of her life all these years. She could only hope that the ties of family would not one day lead to distraction at the wrong moment, and that those she loved were not targeted again.

And from there, her thoughts turned back to Father, who was by himself in the Family areas of the Governing Buildings. He had staff and friends working around him, so he was not truly alone, but he had no family to sit with for meals, no one to discuss quiet subjects and distract him from the weight of his work.

He would be missing Mother too.

It pulled at her heart to think of him sat alone at the dining table, or perhaps he did not stop from his work long enough to eat at the table. She knew Hakon would ensure Father would not miss any meals, but she was even more determined now to ensure she was able to spend a few days in Tjaru with Father. She did not like the idea of his being alone, as wise and mature as he was, when she could be there too. She did not wish him to become lost in grief in the empty rooms of his home, if she could help ease it with her presence, for in her and Zabetha, he always said he found solace that part of Mother still lived on. He was never alone.

It was that sentiment that had affected her so much recently, that her family was forever a part of her and she of them, and as such, it meant that she would never truly be alone. Though Elite sought separation from what might distract them, she found that the supportive love of her family was a deep strength that she had not realised made a difference for her. Without them, would she have become more like Oneakka? With no roots, no family, and no home. The scars of the loss of his people were far deeper than the scars on his face. There was a deep angry pain in him that drove him just as much as protecting loved ones could do. As much as Elite wished to be isolated, strong and unaffected by life, they were still human beings and would always feel. If with no one else, than in the strong battle worn bonds of fellowship among the Elite themselves. Her Elite family were a vital part of her life, but to know that her blood family back on Athos would grow and live in peace, satisfied her greatly and helped her to fight onwards.

She would protect all her people and all the families she could in her fight against the Wraith.

And even in the darkest point of battle, of terror or near death, she would always know that she had family who would miss her when she one day fell. There would always be someone to think of her.

Which brought thoughts of another to life yet again. She could not help herself thinking of John so frequently, to wonder where he was and if he was safe. She also felt a touch of embarrassed satisfaction to think that perhaps he might think of her occasionally too.

Or perhaps his work preoccupied him; perhaps he had travelled back to his own home galaxy far away from here. Maybe he had found another woman to think about when he was alone in the dark.

They had intended their one afternoon of pleasure to be just a moment together, with no ties or expectations of anything more, so it was foolish of her to think of him still, so many long days later. Even when she was able to push aside the arousing sensual detailed memories, there remained lingering concern over his safety, and the distracting imaginings of seeing him again. She hoped he was managing to keep out of trouble.

She should not think about him so much, for they were not meant for one another, and besides, she was an Elite. She had no time for lingering wishful thoughts.

She could see how damaging and painful lingering grief and sadness affected Father.

It would be near to late meal on Athos, and she wondered if he would be sitting down at the table alone. Tomorrow she would arrange things so she could stay in Athos for a few days, she could even assume some Military Council duties, which would allow Nalla some time away from the council halls.

The sound of movement along the nearby path caught her attention, but she immediately recognised it as the soft regular steps of someone wandering along the park's path. Several had passed by over the last couple of hours, and besides, there was nothing to be concerned over on Pelydr. It was next to impossible for a crime to be committed here, or any violence, for the majority of the population possessed some extra gift. Most could read others very accurately, some could read emotions, as Nalla did, and some could even sense the subject of another's thoughts. The most gifted, like Sitayi, could even see the future. Therefore, no one had been able to walk on Pelydr soil with evil intent without being stopped even before arriving through the Gate. Most did not even try.

Only the footfalls on the path had stopped now, and the crisp sound of grass being crushed under foot began to draw her attention even before the shockingly familiar voice called out.

"Juliet, Juliet, wherefore art thou, Juliet."

She looked round sharply, her gaze falling immediately upon his strikingly handsome face, cast in moonlight and shadows. He was wandering slowly towards her, his hands behind his back and his eyes sparklingly bright as he looked up at her on the decking.

John.

How did he come to be here?!

Words failed her as she took in his presence, so sudden and unexpected, which, thinking about it, was how he had nearly always appeared into her life.

He reached the area just below the railing she was leant against and smiled up at her.

Memories, hot and sultry, teasing and playful, slipped through her thoughts as she took in the reality of his lean body, dark in his uniform.

She glanced aside, past him back to the path, but saw no others were with him. He was alone – here on Pelydr. Of course, Atlantis must be visiting, which would explain the unplanned sounds of festivities she and Elkaska had heard earlier.

She looked back down to him to see his smile widen, clearly very amused and pleased at her stunned reaction to his sudden appearance. It was a rare day that she was so thrown, but not for long.

She closed her mouth and lifted an eyebrow at him. "My name is not Juliet," she pointed out.

He angled his head in agreement, and that attractive humour she recalled so vividly played over his expression, stirring more memories and urging a smile to her lips.

"I know that," he replied as he moved forward slightly, closer to the deck. "It's an Earth cultural reference."

"Are you sure you have not just hit your head?" She teased, leaning her body further against the railing so she could look down further to the grass upon which he stood. "Perhaps you fell down another muddy hole."

His expression shifted immediately and he glared up at her, but she could tell he was pleased with her teasing him. It was almost becoming a tradition between them, and it stirred her heart brightly as she watched his sparkling eyes in the moonlight.

She had almost forgotten how truly mesmerising he was to look upon, and how enjoyably playful it was to speak with him.

The teasingly sharp sense of electricity in the air stirred her too though, full of memories she suspected he too recalled, for his eyes seemed dark and seductive this evening.

"I've survived pretty well without you," he told her, crossing his arms, the bunching of his wide shoulders and upper arms very enjoyable to watch. She remembered all too clearly how he had looked out of his jacket and shirt.

"I am pleased to see that," she told him, meaning it whole heartedly, but she still worked to control the smile tugging at her lips still.

"You're looking good too," he added, and she sensed his other meaning even before his eyes slid down her body in a very appreciative way. He had never looked at her that way before, not so boldly as if he too recalled how she looked without her clothes. It stirred the electricity higher and she felt the urge to shift her stance, to relieve the aching areas that recalled how he had felt against her, within her.

His gaze lifted back up to meet hers and he smiled at her in a manner that was clearly meant to charm her.

She resisted the urge to move again, and worked to control the flush she felt across her skin.

"I hope that you are not here now because you are in need of rescue again," she told him, "I am enjoying a day away from battles and do not have time for such work."

His eyebrows lifted, his cheeks moving as he clenched his jaw, likely holding back the choice words he wished to say about that. She smiled down at him, pleased with her wining that round. It did not need to be said, but she clearly had.

He shook his head and looked back up at her. "I can think of a few things that I need," he said with such a blatantly bold suggestion that she had to laugh, her heart rate jumping as she did.

For a shocking moment she entertained the idea of inviting him up into the cabin, to feel his skin against hers again.

She looked away from him before she began to truly consider it.

"I assume that your people are here to enter into trade with Pelydr," she asked, turning the conversation and hoping to distract them both from the flickering shared sensual memories hovering between them.

"Ah, yeah, we've been here for the day," he replied, the teasing dropping away from his manner, following her lead. "I'm just out for a walk, couldn't sleep. It's a nice planet."

"It is indeed a lovely world," she agreed, pleased that the conversation had turned to the more mundane. She needed to regain her centre, away from the ripples of heat teasing through her. "Sitayi did not mention you would be visiting."

"She didn't know, it was kind of a spare of the moment kind of visit," he replied, adjusting his stance, his neck likely aching a little for having to look up at her on the decking. She was tempted to invite him up to stand alongside her, to watch the rising third moon with her, but that would prolong what could not last.

"Is all well in Atlantis?" She asked.

He shifted his position again on the grass, his crossed arms loosening slightly as he transferred his weight from one leg to the other. "Just the usual kind of stuff – Wraith, cullings, people wanting to shoot at us," he replied.

She nodded, understanding his point. "I had heard that there was an incident with a few of our ships and yours."

He nodded. His gaze had changed - the openness of before shut back and away. They had turned to politics, something they had promised each other they would not do when enjoying each other's company. But, then that was when they had been friends, and brief lovers, now they were just passing by each other again. It was natural for him to seek out intelligence from her now, and equally so for her to withhold it from him for her people. The railing and different level of the decking between them felt oddly appropriate all of a sudden. This was not how she had imagined things would proceed if she saw him again.

"Your buddy in charge of the Balista didn't really take to us," he said, his expression strange and she frowned down at him.

"Ronon Dex would never have fired at you, he is well aware of the Elite and Military Council's decision for meetings with Atlantis to be on friendly terms."

"Dex? As in the big guy I saw on the Balista during that meeting?" She nodded. "He's the one still in charge of the ship?" She nodded again. "Oh," he considered with what looked like relief as he uncrossed his arms. "He's got a kid on the way hasn't he?"

She tried not to frown at this bizarre turn of the conversation. "Yes, he does."

"And he's the buddy of yours your Dad was talking about," he said, sounding more as if he were talking to himself than her.

She angled her head in silent question. "Just a little misunderstanding," he explained with a smile that was far more open once more.

She wasn't entirely sure what he meant. Had he referred to the misunderstanding between the Balista and the Earth ship, or to some misunderstanding as to who was the current commander of the Balista?

"Besides," he continued, "we agreed we wouldn't talk about politics," he said with a wide smile as he moved closer, reaching out and resting one hand against the top of the decking near where she stood. The charm had returned.

"Are you sure you have not hit your head recently?" She asked, still unsure what he had meant about the Balista, but he appeared to want to move away from the subject.

He shook his head, large eyes turned up to her in a way that was very appealing. She suspected he knew that, but she rather enjoyed his renewed attempts to flirt so openly with her.

"We did agree not to discuss politics," she agreed.

He nodded and smiled, while his gaze travelled across her features. She felt a little exposed under such inspection, but also found it pleasing. She let her own gaze wander again, following the dark line of shadow of his jaw to his strong chin and the full smile of his lips. As handsome as he was, she had forgotten how attractive his presence alone felt – the intelligent light of his eyes and the ease of his playful conversation that seemed so open and honest. In the light of which, she could forgive herself for overly recalling the delights shared with him before, for it was obvious that as an entire package he really was most appealing. He was even an able warrior, and welcomed on her home world. Was it so wrong to have fantasised about him so much? In his eyes, dark and dilated, she doubted he would be concerned to think she had, and might even have been thinking frequently of her.

Never before had that thought stirred or pleased her, to think she might give pleasure to man without even being present. She wondered how often he might have imagined her with him again.

She broke her lingering gaze from him, the temptation to invite him up to the decking on the tip of her tongue, but she had to sensible this time.

"Everything going alright with the Elite?" He asked, and she was deeply grateful for the distraction.

"We have won a number of important victories," she replied, shocking herself at the boast – she never did that.

"I've heard," he replied with a soft approving smile, and she felt an annoying rush of pleasure.

Elite did not battle for wealth or glory, and certainly not to gain praise and affection.

She cleared her throat faintly as she changed her position against the railing, turning more directly towards him and resting her right arm along the railing's smooth top. She crossed her right leg over the left as she leant into the new more comfortable, and hopefully more casual, position.

She saw John's eyes travel down her, lingering on her legs, which were now far closer to him, she now realised. She tilted her hips a little further and adjusted her legs again, and smiled as she saw his expression change as he watched.

"Who is Juliet?" She asked.

He snapped his eyes back up to her face, appearing not to have heard her properly.

"Juliet?" She repeated, more than delighted to be able to distract him so easily. She recalled he had enjoyed stroking her legs during their lovemaking. The memory teased against her thighs as if her body were physically replaying the sensation of his touch.

He was so close. Could she really end this conversation without at least touching him, just once?

"Um, she was a character in a famous story," he replied, his focus regained.

"What is the story?" She asked, curious.

He adjusted his studied casual lean against the decking, his free hand on his hip, drawing her eyes to the lithe length of his body. She recalled how good he had looked free of his clothes.

"It's a story about a woman, Juliet, and a man called Romeo, who came from different families who were at war with each other," he told her, his tone clearly edging into flirtation again. She was pretty sure she could predict what kind of story it would be.

"Who fall in love despite being enemies," he concluded.

She lifted an eyebrow at him, feigning suspicion. "This is truly a famous story on your world?"

"Yes, it is," he nodded emphatically. "Probably one of the most famous."

"You are not perhaps making it up?" She suggested, to tease rather than to really question his word.

He lifted his eyebrows with exaggerated offence and innocence, "Why would I do that?" he asked as his expression shifted to a worryingly smug victorious smile. "It's not my fault if you're finding any similarities to your own life." His grin was decidedly wicked now.

She narrowed her eyes down at him and crossed her arms tightly. "You were the one who called me Juliet," she replied, feeling somewhat flustered now. "In this story from your world, were Juliet and Romeo kept apart by their families?"

"They tried, but Romeo and Juliet's love won out," he replied very theatrically.

She had to grin down at him and his sparklingly pleased gaze. She almost asked him if he felt he was in love with her, but decided it – it was best to remember that this was only playful flirtation built on an unusual and dramatic friendship.

"And did their love last?" She asked.

He broke eye contact for a brief moment, which told her the answer, but she had expected as much, for there were similar tales in her own galaxy. Admitting there was a decidedly unromantic end to the tale from his world would not be in keeping with his flirtatious intentions.

"I never get to the end of books," he replied instead, nicely avoiding the answer, as he smiled up at her with his enticing gaze. Never before during their meetings had he worked so overtly to charm her, but then she supposed this was the first time that they had met since sharing a bed.

"Do you run out of concentration? Perhaps you are too frequently captured by enemies to finish them?" She teased, enjoying the continuing back and forth, seeing if she could fluster him in turn and break his flirtatious flow.

He rolled his eyes and stood up straight from the decking, his sexually inviting posture abandoned. "I don't have to stand here and take this, you know," he told her, playing for sympathy now. It was so obvious and playful that she grinned at him. She had forgotten how often he could make her do that.

"Feel free to continue your walk," she suggested, indicating the path that continued on past her cabin. "Romeo."

He looked back at the path, and for a silly weak moment she feared he would actually choose to leave.

He looked back up at her.

"And leave you all alone?" He asked as if to do so would be unthinkable.

She chuckled, delighted at his choice and determination. "Do you think I require protection?"

He shook his head as he began to move – not back towards the path, but to the left, towards the steps which led up to the decking where she stood. A somewhat nervous excitement began to boil in her stomach as she watched his casual glance up at her as he started up the steps, moving slowly as if he was deep in thought.

"I think you'd probably be the one protecting me from any scary monsters," he told her.

"Then perhaps you think you can provide me intelligent conversation for the evening?" She asked as she watched him move up the steps, his back to her as he did so.

"Probably not," he told her as he reached the top step and turned up onto the decking. "It's been a long day - I'm all out of intelligent conversation."

He was at the same level as her now, moving towards her. Thrilling sparks of pulsing enjoyment teased through her as she watched him approach.

She had forgotten how tall he was.

"Perhaps you wish to provide some entertainment then?" She asked.

He paused for a fraction of a moment in his steps, only a metre away from her now, and he glared at her. "Entertainment?" He asked, as if it had been the insult she had intended it to be, before he continued on towards her.

The third moon, still rising fast behind her shoulder, cast sharp light over one side of his face, leaving the other in deep flattering shadows. He was wonderfully dark and soft eyed as he neared her.

His gaze met hers with the same bold intimacy, but it felt far more intense now that he was level with her, though as he approached, it was now her turn to have to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact with him.

"Not entertainment, no," he answered her as he reached out with his left hand, his fingers falling onto the railing close to where she leant against it.

She tilted her head back a little further as he slid right into her personal space, finally stopping, barely a foot away from her.

She could feel his body heat against her front he was stood so close. Or perhaps it was her own body heat, which felt suddenly so ravenously hot.

She licked her lips without thought and saw his eyes drop to her mouth.

"Maybe we could just keep each other company for a while," he suggested, his voice deep and soft so close to her. It pulled at her in a way that no amount of flirtatious word play could never achieve.

She drew in a deep breath, drawing in the deep masculine alien scent of him, and with it arrived so many good memories. Her body responded to them instantly, his scent stirring up deeply associated arousal from when she had buried her nose and lips against his skin, from when she had tasted his skin. The shadows across his throat and strong jaw drew her eyes, tempting her.

His chest was wonderfully broad, but his body lean and toned. She remembered how he had felt against her, how he had felt inside her.

She released a calming breath, forcing her eyes and her mind under her control, and she looked back up at his face once more. There was reality outside of the teasing, arousing space between them.

"You are expected back with your people," she said quietly.

He lifted one arm and glanced down at the time keeping device wrapped around his wrist.

"I could be away for another hour," he suggested.

The playful teasing was gone from the both of them now, but in the serious heat between them, she sensed that he was not nearly as confident now as he had been before.

Neither was she.

"Things are no different than last time we met," she said. "We are perhaps more likely to become enemies now than before."

He nodded, his lower lip pulling in slightly between his teeth. "It's probably not the smart thing to do."

She nodded with him, but neither of them moved a fraction away from each other. Sweet promise held alive still, whispering of replaying the glorious time they had shared before. It felt alive, throbbing in the narrow empty space between then.

"We had intended it to be one afternoon of pleasure, a sharing of a moment," she said softly, logically.

He dipped his head in acknowledgement of her point, his warmth glowing faintly closer to her as he did. "One I've thought a lot about," he admitted quietly.

His admission satisfied a powerful primitive feminine part of her that could do nothing but admit the same to him. "As have I."

She sensed his satisfaction in the growing heat between, felt him shift faintly closer. She tilted her head back to look right up into his eyes.

"Nothing _has_ changed," he repeated her point, but with different emphasis. "This is just another moment." He seemed to lean closer, not touching her, but she felt the action as if he did. "Can't we just enjoy it together?" He asked.

And why should they not, her emotions screamed at her. Everyone else enjoyed the lovers they desired and who desired them. Why should she not? Elite took lovers like everyone else.

Why should she not enjoy what she wished? What was offered to her.

"One more moment together?" She suggested.

He nodded, his expression wide open now, just as he had been the last time. Nothing was hidden anymore.

"It will not change anything that may happen between our peoples," she found herself saying, surprised that she had enough mental facility left to put together such a comment.

He shook his head. "Just you and me," he whispered.

It had perhaps been inevitable since the moment he had stepped out into the moonlight, alone and smiling up at her.

He had become another weakness of hers, but perhaps one that she could afford to indulge for just one last time.

Why deny herself something they both wanted equally?

"By the same terms as before", she agreed quietly.

He let out a soft breath of relief, making the significance to him plain to her. He had not been sure she would agree, and that gave her pause to smile faintly.

She slid away from the railing, brushing lightly against him as she moved across the decking towards the partly open door of her sleeping cabin.

She pushed the door open wide, revealing the narrow one room beyond, with its single chair and basic bed. She looked back over her shoulder at him, still stood at the railing watching her with dark needful eyes. "We do not have much time," she reminded him as she stepped inside.

Behind her she heard him speak quickly into his radio, telling his people he was well and that he would be walking around the lake. Then, his boot steps echoed on the decking, following her into the cabin, and the door creaked closed behind him.

She turned towards him and reached up to the neckline of her bodysuit. She pulled the fabric down over her shoulders, exposing her breasts to the now weak light of the candle and the faint moonlight making it in through the small front window. She had plenty of light to see him though as he approached, his hands lifting to his jacket, pulling buttons hurriedly free.

It would be one more moment, a sharing of passion she knew would haunt her again, and that might even haunt him too.

Perhaps it was unwise, maybe it would lead to hurt, but for tonight, for less than an hour, she could enjoy him once more. To touch his skin as he bared it in the candlelight, to feel his hands sliding over her body, to feel his passion embodied in hard planes and angles, and to feel him deep inside her. To satisfy the powerful primal need inside that she so often denied herself.

What harm could it really do?

The question echoed in her mind as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and his mouth met hers, his heart thumping fast in his chest against her breasts.

Just one more time.

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THE END


End file.
